Through The Eyes Of Willow
by MagicGoldenFlower
Summary: About 25 years have passed since the rebellion. Most of the districts have been rebuilt and a new lifestyle was forming. People were allowed to do as they pleased in life. No one was forced into the Hunger Games again, not even the Capital children. But life for Willow was different than most. She lived in District 12, with her mother, father, and her 'uncle.' They all took good ca
1. One

**Chapter One**

My story takes place when I was just a little girl who thought I knew it all. I thought I had my world figured out. My parents would never keep a secret from me because I was old enough to understand.

But I was wrong.

I'll begin in the fall, specifically, the fall before Rye broke his arm. I was only twelve years old then. School had begun, in fact, it was Rye's first year in school. He was excited, while I would much rather prefer to dance in the meadow.

Little did I know how much I would grow to hate that meadow.

xxx

I quietly sat down in my desk while the rest of my classmates rambled on about what they were going to do this weekend. Some kids would go to other districts to visit family members or just see something new. My weekends were always the same. "Pst! Willow!"

I turned to my left, looking at one of my classmates. Her blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun on her head. A few flyaways were falling down the back of her neck from running around outside. "What are you doing this weekend?" Annie asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and tossed my braid over my back. "I'm staying here in 12." I replied.

"Don't you always do that?" She asked, confusion present in her green eyes. I nodded my head, slightly furrowing my eyebrows. "Don't you get bored?" She added.

I opened my mouth, about to answer but the teacher entered the school house. We had two school houses back then. One was for the elementary kids, like Rye, and the other one was for the older kids. I was in the older school house, but there weren't many students. Once most of us turned 10, our parents took us out to help on the farm or because our parents thought we learned plenty to survive. My parents decided that I would stay in school until I was 15.

I turned back in my desk, facing forward. I was one of the oldest in the class so I had to be the example. If I didn't behave, neither would the younger children. They all looked up to me, even though I wished they didn't. "Did you have fun at recess?" Mrs. Belling asked.

Most of us nodded our heads, not really in the mood to speak. "Good," She smiled, nodding her head back. "Now that we're back inside, I've decided that today we would discuss our history." She explained.

Immediately, I slightly sank in my desk. Did I forget to mention that I am the daughter of Katniss and Peeta Mellark? Well, it seemed like everyone in our district knew and they always picked on me to explain our history and how it dramatically changed in almost three years. "Willow, would you come up to the front please?" Mrs. Belling asked.

I felt a blush rush over my cheeks as I stood in front of my classmates. They were silent, knowing why I was called to the front. "Would you please explain to the class what you know about our history?" She added.

I licked my lips, looking into their blinking eyes. "Well, um, a long time ago, the capital used to be very strict," I started, my voice slightly shaking from nervousness. I hated attention, especially when it came to this subject. "We used to be divided into districts, similar to today. Once a year, the capital would send one girl and one boy to fight in the Hunger Games."

I looked to my teacher, hoping she would see how much I was struggling with this task. She gave me a soft smile and nodded her head, wanting me to continue. I internally groaned and turned back to the front. "They did this for a very long time. So long, in fact, that this was the only way everyone knew. One day, my mother and my father were drawn to fight." I explained.

Everyone held their breath. Every year, I added something new to the story, something they had never heard before. Usually, it was something small, something to get them to think. "Fast forward a couple of years and my mom is the leader of the rebellion with my dad by her side. They defeated President Snow and everyone lived happily ever after. The End." I quickly summarized. They all slightly groaned, wishing I would add on to the story.

Mrs. Belling stood up, placing her hand on my shoulder. "Thank you, Willow. That was a good summary," she smiled, signaling that I could finally go back to my desk. "Now, this weekend, I want everyone to ask their grandparents and parents about what they remember about the rebellion. Make sure to ask them about your history specifically. Did they used to live in a different district? Did they fight for the rebellion? Were you named after someone special?" She continued as she passed out a sheet of paper with our assignment printed on it. "I want you to write about what you learned on this and on Monday when we come back, we'll take turns sharing."

I let out a long sigh as the paper was passed down the row to me. I hated when this assignment rolled out every year. Sure, this year was much more specific. We were older now and we had to learn more about the details. This was the first year we were supposed to ask our parents.

Eventually, class was let out for the weekend. Most kids ran to their houses, excited for what they were doing this weekend. I walked to the tree in the middle of the school yard, seeing the blonde haired boy patiently waiting for my arrival.

My footsteps made his gray eyes look up from his book. Immediately, a smile was brought to his face as he pulled me into a hug. "Willow!" He cheered.

"Hey, Rye. How was school?" I asked as he let go.

"Good," He replied, picking up his backpack from the ground. He threw it over his shoulder as we began to walk home. "My teacher let me do a math problem on the board today."

"Did you know it?" I asked. He nodded his head, making his blonde curls bounce up and down.

"Yes, Willow. I know what two plus two is." He giggled. At this age, Rye thought everything was funny. In fact, you could probably just drop a bowl on the ground and he would laugh like a hyena. But his laugh always warmed your heart.

Our house slowly got bigger in the horizon. We lived in Victor's Village, which was where the 'rich' people lived. Personally, I didn't think we had much money, especially compared to other students. "Do you think Momma will be happy to see us?" Rye asked.

"Well, duh."

"Duh." He repeated, laughing. I smiled at him, watching him repeat the word over and over again.

We reached the front door, opening it to hear Dad in the kitchen. A sweet smell filled the air, signaling to me that Dad had baked us fresh apple pie. My mouth began to water as Rye shouted, "We're home!"

"In the kitchen!" Dad fired back. Rye threw his backpack on the floor, blocking the door. He sprinted off towards the kitchen, squealing as I heard Dad pick him up, saying how heavy he was getting.

I hooked my backpack on the wall, slightly delaying my greeting for Dad. I was just nervous about my assignment. Uncle Haymitch had told me that Mom and Dad had gone through a lot, so I shouldn't push them to tell their stories. But that was exactly what I was doing.

"Hey, Willow." Dad greeted kissing the top of my head. I turned around, softly smiling at him.

"Hey, Dad." I replied, looking into his matching blue eyes. His clothes and blonde hair were covered in flour. He looked like he spent all day in the kitchen, never leaving once. Hopefully that meant a wonderful meal tonight.

"Hang on, you got something on you," He stated, reaching toward my face. I stood still, letting him get whatever was on me. Quickly, he wiped a finger on my cheek, leaving a streak of flour across it. "Gotcha!" He grinned.

"Dad!" I laughed, wiping it off with the back of my hand. He chuckled, walking back into the kitchen. I followed behind him. I looked at the table, seeing Rye sitting there eating the pie dough.

"Hey! Get outta here!" Dad grinned, shooing Rye away and taking his dough back. He began rolling it flat again in muscle memory.

I sat down at the table, watching him work. "Hey, Dad," I began. He hummed, signaling he was listening. "Where's Mom?"

"She went out to go see if she could find any game for tonight," He explained, wiping his brow. "Why?" He fired back. He glanced back at me while his hands kept working.

"No reason. Just curious." I replied, shrugging my shoulders. Dad nodded his head, looking back down at his work.

"Willow, will you and Rye go invite Uncle Haymitch for supper tonight?" Dad asked, changing the subject. I hopped down from my chair, heading back to Rye's room to grab him. "Don't forget the whiskey! It's on the shelf by the entry way!" Dad shouted out.

"Got it!" I answered. I opened the door, seeing Rye happily working on his schoolwork. If only I was as determined as him to do my assignments. "Let's go get Uncle Haymitch for supper." I commanded.

"Hooray! I'll grab the whiskey!" He cheered, jumping up from the floor. He ran towards the door, grabbing Haymitch's bribing tool.

Haymitch isn't really my uncle. In fact, I'm not even technically related to him. He was Mom and Dad's mentor in the Games, so they've trusted him with everything. Surprisingly, they've trusted him to watch us when we were little. He's kind of a jackass to most people, besides us. He would do anything for us.

"I call knocking," Rye quickly stated as we walked up to the door. He slammed his fist against the door then waited a few seconds. We patiently waited outside, rocking on our heels. "Can we go in now?" Rye asked, looking into my eyes.

"Sure." I replied, but he had already opened the door. Haymitch also lived in Victor's Village, in fact, his house was an exact replica of ours, besides the smell of alcohol. The place had never changed, not once. The kitchen looked as if it had never been used and the living room was stacked with liquor bottles everywhere.

"Uncle Haymitch! Get up, sleepyhead!" Rye shouted, running towards the living room. I followed behind him, seeing Haymitch jump awake. He quickly wiped his drool off of his chin then brushed his dark locks out of his gray eyes.

"What are you two troublemakers up to?" Haymitch asked, sitting up, looking at me and Rye. Rye excitedly looked up to me, waiting for me to answer.

"Mom and Dad were wondering if you wanted to come over for supper tonight." I explained as Rye nodded his head, trying his hardest to keep a smile off his face. But all of us knew it was impossible for that kid not to have a smile.

"Ya know what, I think I'll pass. I'm tired." Haymitch replied, laying back down on his couch, closing his eyes.

"We have whiskey!" Rye grinned, holding it up. Immediately, Haymitch's eyes opened. He quickly sat back up.

"Hand it over, bud." He declared, waving his hand towards his body.

Rye shook his head, hiding it behind his back. "You have to come over to get it, Uncle Haymitch."

Haymitch let out a sigh, softly vibrating his lips. "Dad made apple pie." I added on. Haymitch looked at me, a smile growing on his face.

"Why didn't you say that before? I'll go take a shower and come over quickly," He replied, slowly standing up. Rye cheered, jumping up and down. "Now get out of here you dorks, your daddy is probably wondering where you are." He smiled.

"Dad knows where we are, silly!" Rye laughed as we walked out the front door. We headed back to out place, thoughts running through my head. How come Haymitch always had to shower before he came over? Why was he always asleep?

We went home, both of us making sure to step on every leaf on our path. The crunch filled our ears, making us laugh and smile. This was my favorite part of fall.

Eventually, we went back inside. I took my place at the table again while Rye went back to his room to play. Usually, I went with him, but I wanted to sit and decide how to talk to my parents about our history.

The front door opened, taking me from my thoughts. Mom entered the house, hanging her bow and quiver on the hooks beside my backpack. I watched her hang up Rye's backpack, which I was surprised no one tripped over. "Hi, Mom." I greeted.

"Hey, blue eyes." She grinned back, coming over to ruffle my hair. I lightly chuckled, taming it back down.

"Hey, Katniss. How'd it go?" Dad asked, turning around to look at her.

"Good." Mom smiled, nodding her head as she placed the rabbit in the sink. Dad looked her over, slightly biting his lower lip and raising his eyebrows.

"Are you?" He questioned, not able to find words to finish it. Mom shrugged her shoulders, brushing off the question.

"Smells great in here," She stated, changing the subject. What was Mom? I furrowed my eyebrows, confused by my Dad's question. He asked it every time she went hunting. And every time, I had no idea what he was talking about. "Willow, sweetie, please set the table."

I lightly groaned, grabbing the plates and silverware. I set the table for the five of us. I had no idea if Haymitch would show up on time or not. He was never consistent. I thought it was because his clock didn't work.

Eventually, supper was ready. All of us sat down together, a spot left open for Uncle Haymitch. We were quiet, everyone happily eating. "So," Mom started, looking at me and Rye. "How was school today?"

"Really fun," Rye began, swallowing his food quickly so he could speak. "I got to write a math problem on the board!"

"Good job, Rye." Dad smiled.

"Yeah, way to go little man." Mom added. Everyone looked at me, waiting for an answer. They knew how much I hated school, so the idea of me having a good day was slim.

"We have assignment in history," I stated. Mom and Dad both stopped eating, sharing a glance. "We're supposed to ask where we got our names from." I finished, not wanting to overwhelm them.

They relaxed, beginning to eat again. I let out a little sigh myself, glad that I didn't offend them. "That's an easy answer," Mom smiled. "We named you after the willow trees in the meadow."

"Really? A tree?" I replied, slightly scrunching my nose.

"Yeah, they're your mother's favorite." Dad agreed, a smile forming on his face. So much for having a cool name. Rye began fidgeting in his seat beside me.

"What about me? How did you name me?" He begged, throwing his fork to the side.

"We named you Rye because that's your father's favorite type of bread. Plus, he said that you weighed nearly as much as a loaf of rye bread." Mom teased. Of course, Rye believed her, his gray eyes widening while his jaw dropped. Rye bread was Dad's favorite, but I doubted the part about Rye actually weighing the same as a loaf of it.

"Really?" He awed. Dad hummed nodding his head. Rye giggled in seat, loving the story behind his name.

The front door opened and shut, Haymitch quickly sliding in beside me. He placed a kiss on my cheek. "The food good?" He asked as he quickly piled it up on his plate.

"Yeah." I answered.

"Uncle Haymitch," Rye cheered getting his attention. "Did you know that I was named Rye because Dad said I weighed as much rye bread and because it's his favorite?" He exclaimed. Mom and Dad stifled a laugh, though I wasn't sure why. That was what they said.

"That sounds like something your daddy would do." Haymitch smiled, looking at Rye and Dad.

"And Willow was named after Mom's favorite tree." Rye added. I stared down at my plate, feeling slightly embarrassed. Did Rye really just have to say that?

"I thought that name sounded familiar," Haymitch played along. "Pass the butter please, sweetheart ." He stated, changing the subject. Mom passed him the butter, rolling her gray eyes. I let out a sigh, leaning my head into my hand while Annie's question rang in my head. Don't you get bored?


	2. Two

**Chapter Two**

School was awful that next Monday. Everyone did as they were told for once. They all got their family history and I was jealous. It was probably so easy for them. They didn't have to worry if it would send their parents over the edge or if they would get a simplified version.

I leaned my head into my hand, watching the next classmate stand in front of the class, happily holding their sheet of paper. I wished I could have that much enthusiasm with this torturous assignment. "My family was originally from the capital. We didn't fight on either side. My grandparents did what they needed to survive. My grandma even died during this huge bombing. Shortly afterward, my grandpa and my mom moved here and my mom married my dad and I was born. My grandpa named me Prim, after Willow's aunt." The brunette declared, making everyone turn to look at me.

I slightly sank in my desk, not liking the attention. My cheeks heated up as I felt their stares. Why couldn't people leave me alone? "That was a very interesting story. Thank you, Prim." Mrs. Belling smiled, taking the eyes off of me. "Next is Fin."

Fin glided to the front, smirking at everyone. He placed his hands on his hips, making sure that we were all listening to him. "As most of you know, my name is Finnick. I was named after the victor Finnick Odair. He was originally from District 4, just like my family. During the rebellion, my grandparents and parents fought against the capital." He explained. Everyone clapped as he took a small bow then sat in his desk.

I slightly rolled my blue eyes. Of course Fin thought everyone adored him. It was obvious to tell that he thought he was better than everyone else. I turned around to watch him shake his head, swirling his blonde locks so that they rested out of his green eyes.

I turned around to face the front, ready to watch the next classmate speak. She slightly fidgeted, the attention getting to her. She cleared her throat then ran her petite finger through her dark black hair. "My family was originally from District 5. My grandpa died helping to create the power outage for the country. I was named Rue after the tribute in the 74th annual Hunger Games." She shakily explained. She kept her head down as she rushed back to her seat.

Everyone clapped, looking at each other. Everyone began to whisper to each other. What power outage? Mrs. Belling smiled, clearing her throat to gather our attention. "Lastly, we have Willow."

I took a deep breath as I stood up from my desk. I tossed my braid over my back, staring at my classmates. Now I realized what made Rue so nervous up here. I looked down at my paper, seeing my hands shake. I could hardly breath. What was happening?

"Whenever you're ready." Mrs. Belling gently smiled. I nodded my head, taking a big gulp. I tried to read my paper, but it was shaking too much. I tightly gripped it, slightly steadying it.

"So, um. As most of you know, um. My name is Willow," I shakily began, taking my eyes up from the paper for a few seconds. Everyone was quiet, their faces looking serious. I wished one of them would smile or laugh. I wanted anything to take away this deadly silence and attention. I cleared my throat, looking down again. "I was named after my mom's favorite trees. There are lots of them in the meadow where we have picnics and stuff. Um, my parents were both from here. And um, they fought in the rebellion."

I glanced up from my paper, my blue eyes meeting with Fin's green ones. He didn't show any signs of sympathy or care. Quickly, I darted them to Prim's blue ones, but that was useless. She was staring down at her nails. I looked to Rue, whose brown ones gave me comfort and support. "My mom was the symbol of the rebellion. For some reason, everyone just liked her. She said that she thought they should like my dad more because he was much more charming." I slightly chuckled, trying to clear the air, my eyes locked with Rue's.

No one laughed along.

My bottom lip trembled as I tried to think of what to say. "And you guys already know the ending so, um, yeah. That's my history." I stammered. Quickly, I rushed back to my seat, laying my head on my desk and covering my face.

Hot tears began to stream down my face. I didn't know why I was crying. None of the other kids cried when they told their history. Why was I acting to strange? "Thank you, Willow." Mrs. Belling stated, taking the eyes back onto her.

I sniffed, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. She continued to talk, but I blurred her out. I felt stupid. I should be proud to have parents that were involved in the rebellion. I was proud of them. So why was I crying? What was going on?

Gradually, it was time to go home again. I quickly gathered up my stuff, shoving them into my bag. I knew my eyes were red and puffy. I knew everyone was going to go home and tell their parents. I knew tomorrow they would all laugh at me.

"Willow, can you stay, please?" Mrs. Belling asked, making everyone ooh and giggle. I kept my head down, letting them all leave the school house as I stayed behind. One of them shut the door, leaving me and Mrs. Belling alone.

"Yes?" I asked, looking to the floor. She tilted my chin up, making me look into her soft green eyes.

"Have you talked to your parents about your history yet?" She questioned, slightly puckering out her pink lips. I felt the pressure building up behind my blue eyes. Of course she could tell I didn't ask them. My story would have had to be at least an hour long then.

"No." I breathed, trying to keep the tears in. I didn't want to cry again.

"You should really consider it, Willow. They could help you understand what they did and why. It could be good for you," She explained, gently touching my shoulder. Pht. Good for me? What would I gain asking my parents for their history? "I know this assignment is probably really hard for you, but if you don't ask them soon, I'll explain what happened and you'll feel railroaded and I don't want to do that to you." She added.

"Explain it to me? Why?" I fired back, hurt present in my voice. I didn't want her to do anything! She couldn't make me listen to her speak about my parents' story!

"Well, I have to teach the other students what happened."

"No! You don't!" I argued, anger filling in my veins.

"Yes, Willow, I do. That's my job as a teacher," she calmly replied. I furrowed my eyebrows and tightened my jaw, growing upset with her. "I've delayed this subject for as long as I could. It's time for me to move on to the hard details."

I looked to the floor, tightening my fists. This was stupid. I thought I hated school before, now I absolutely despised it. They were going to tell me about what their thoughts on my parents were.

I wasn't going to let that happen. I was going to hear the whole story from my parents point of view. I was going to hear the true story. Everyone knows that the best way to know if a story is true is to ask the person it happened to.

I turned on my heels, storming out of the school house. Rye was sitting under the tree, a look of worry washed over his face. When his eyes finally caught sight of me, he let out a loud sigh, running to me. "Willow! I thought something bad happened to you!" He declared, hugging me tightly.

I rolled my blue eyes, slightly pushing him off. He didn't seem to mind, quickly grabbing his bag and jogging back to my side. "Hey look! It's the crybaby!"

I snapped around, anger clear on my face. "Shut up, Lucas!" I shouted, feeling the pressure again. I wasn't going to cry in front of them. Not again.

"Why'd you cry you big baby? Did you get scared of everyone staring at you?" He taunted, his brown eyes twinkling in delight. He loved watching me suffer.

"You wouldn't understand, doofus Lucas!" I defended, making the other kids ohh. Rye's hands snaked onto my arm, bringing my eye to look into his gray ones. He pouted out his lip, afraid of what was happening.

"Guys, knock it off," Fin butted in, stepping between me and Lucas. I arched my eyebrow, surprised at his actions. Usually Fin was the one to encourage a fight. "Just because Willow has a hard time keeping her cries to herself doesn't mean you have to pick on her." He smirked, his green eyes sparkling.

I huffed, feeling betrayed. Fin was supposed to stop this fight and now I wanted to punch his face in. "'Low," Rye whispered, shaking my arm. I looked down, my emotions softening. "I want to go home." He pleaded.

I looked back at the laughing kids, most of them making fun of me. I turned on my heel, trying to ignore their teasings and taunts. Rye rubbed his gray eyes as we walked home. Suddenly, I felt bad for scaring him. "Rye," I began as soon as I knew the others were out of earshot. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, 'Low," he answered, shrugging his shoulder. "Why did they call you a crybaby?" He questioned, kicking a rock down the road. I bit my lower lip, deciding how to answer. I didn't want to look like a wuss. "I've never seen you cry." He quietly added.

"I wasn't crying, Rye. I just...the kids thought I was," I stammered, trying to come up with an excuse. He awed, nodding his head. I stopped on the road, bending down to his level. "You can't tell anyone about this, okay? Not Mama. Not Dad." I declared.

"Uncle Haymitch?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Especially not Uncle Haymitch." I replied, trying to look serious.

"Why?"

"Why?" I repeated. "Because then they'll think the other kids are picking on me, but I can handle myself." I explained, hoping he'd get the message.

"But Dad said if other kids pick on us then we're supposed to-"

"I know," I exclaimed, cutting him off. He sucked in his lips, his gray eyes showing confusion. "If they think I can't handle myself then they won't let me take care of you anymore and Mom or Dad will have to walk us home everyday." I declared. He gasped, covering his mouth. "And we don't want that."

"No! Then we'll be called babies even more!" He shouted, his gray eyes wide in fear.

"Mh-hm. And that'll make even more of a mess. So let's just keep this between us, okay?" I stated, arching an eyebrow at him. He hummed, nodding his head. "Good." I nodded before I stood up and continued walking. At least I could trust Rye not to tell. He was the only one I trusted right now.


	3. Three

**Chapter Three**

Gradually, the teasings stopped. A week had passed since that day and everyone forgot. I had gained my role back as the fearless 12 year old and everything went back to normal, well, I thought it was normal.

Until he showed up.

We were at recess. I was coloring a picture on the sidewalk with Annie and Rue. Our hands and faces were covered in every color possible from the chalk. Pinks and blues were in our hair and on our dresses. We were a mess.

But we didn't care. We were having fun and our mothers could easily wash it out like the many times before. I picked up my favorite color, orange, and began to add my name to my picture.

I smiled, wiping my hand across my forehead to brush my dark locks out of my eyes. "You guys want to see my picture?" Rue asked.

"Sure!" I agreed, running over to see what she drew. Rue had always been one of the best drawers in our class. As I was running over, the sounds of laughter grew, gathering my attention.

I stopped, seeing a man play with Rye on the other side of the school yard. All of the younger kids were surrounding him, all of them trying to get his attention. But this man was only interested in Rye.

I could easily tell. The man was acting like we usually did. He was nodding his head at the other kids and slightly laughing, but made sure to always say some comment to Rye.

Why was this man trying to win Rye's approval?

Mrs. Belling called out for us to come back inside, waving her hand to get our attention. We quickly gathered up our things, throwing the pieces of chalk into the bucket and picking up our jump ropes. "Willow," Annie started, walking to my side. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing. Why?" I questioned, furrowing my eyebrows. I didn't feel wrong. In fact, I actually felt happy, besides the strange feeling I had in my gut about that man.

"You didn't go see Rue's picture, so I just thought you were feeling bad again." She answered. I shook my head, making my braids slap my face lightly.

"I was just watching that guy over there. I was wondering who he was." I explained. Annie looked over her small shoulders, narrowing her green eyes.

"I don't know. I've never seen him before. Maybe he just moved here." She offered, shrugging her shoulder. I lightly bit my bottom lip, taking in her opinion. That was a reasonable excuse.

I placed down the bucket beside the door, making sure it wasn't in the way. I went back to my desk, knowing there was something off about that guy. He was too friendly with Rye and I didn't like it. I was going to find out why.

Eventually, we were let out of school for the day. Quickly, I threw my books into my backpack and ran outside, meeting Rye before he even got to the tree. "Willow!" He smiled.

"Let's go home!" I quickly stated, turning towards our house. Rye willingly agreed, jogging to catch up to me.

He blabbered on and on about his day today. To be honest, I never thought he would shut up. It wasn't that I was annoyed about him talking, it was just that I could feel the man's eyes on us.

I carefully turned my head, hoping I was just imagining it, but I wasn't. I could see him staring at us as walked home. I slightly picked up the pace, wanting to get out of his sight. Rye didn't even notice. "And then, we met Mr. Hawthorne." Rye continued, catching my attention.

"Who?"

"Mr. Hawthorne," Rye repeated, looking up from the road. "He's the guy I was playing with at recess. He's from District 2, but he grew up here in District 12. He said he was close friends with Mom."

"With Mom?" I asked, arching my eyebrow. Rye nodded his head, slightly furrowing his eyebrows himself.

"I didn't get it either. I thought Mom and Dad grew up together, so wouldn't he be friends with Dad too?" He pondered, staring at me with his innocent gray eyes.

"Well, he probably knows Dad. But maybe they weren't friends," I offered, facing forward again. "I mean, I'm not friends with everyone."

"I suppose," He sighed, kicking a rock off of the path. "Have you met Mr. Hawthorne before?" He asked after a period of silence.

"No. I've never even heard of him." I honestly replied. If he was a friend of Mom's, why hadn't I heard of him? Mom and Dad have talked about their experiences in school to us before. We've heard all kinds of stories about Mom's friend, Madge, and Dad's friend, Delly.

"Oh. Well, he said tomorrow he was going to go to the older school house and talk to you guys." Rye explained. He tugged on the straps of his backpack, pulling it higher onto his back. It was a nervous twitch he did.

"About what?"

"Oh, you know. The rebellion and stuff. He only said a few words to us. He said that he fought for the good guys with Mom and Dad. He also said he got to fly around in these huge spaceship things. They sounded awesome."

I had already learn what those 'awesome spaceships' had done in the rebellion. I knew that they were far from awesome. They were terrible, killing everything they saw that moved.

From that moment, I had already decided that I hated Mr. Hawthorne. I didn't even need to have a conversation with him to know. "Do you think Mom will remember this guy?" Rye suddenly asked.

"Maybe, but don't bring it up with her yet." I quickly replied. Rye furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at with his head tilted to the side.

"Why?"

I blinked my eyes, trying to come up with an excuse. "Well, if Mom does remember him, then it won't be a surprise for me tomorrow. I want to make sure we can talk about him together with Mom." I lied.

"Oh," he answered, looking down at his feet. "That makes sense. I can wait." He agreed as we got to the front door. I let out a little sigh as he opened the door, calling out that we were home.

xxx

Sure enough, Rye was right. The next day, Mr. Hawthorne stood in front of the class, his name written on the blackboard behind him. All of the kids began to whisper, asking each other why he was here. "Willow, who is this guy?" Prim asked.

"I don't know." I whispered back, never taking my eyes off of him. His gray eyes traveled around the room, glancing at each person. But then they stopped on me. I felt my cheeks heat up as we made eye contact.

"Students, this is Mr. Hawthorne. He's from District 12 and is here to tell you about his part in the rebellion." Mrs. Belling explained, introducing him to us. Everyone became silent as he cleared his throat.

He had a few spots of graying hair in his dark locks. He was taller than my Dad, even taller than a few of my friends' dads. "I'm Mr. Hawthorne, but you can call me Gale." He greeted, waving at us.

"Hi, Gale." Everyone, except me, replied. Immediately, I locked my jaw. Gale was Mom's hunting partner. He was also Mom's best friend before that awful Reaping. She had told me that she lost touch with him after the rebellion since he didn't want to come back to 12.

"So, I think I should explain myself to everyone. How many of you know Katniss Everdeen?" He asked. "Raise your hand if you do."

I sat still, not wanting to. No one raised their hands and they looked around at each other. They didn't know my mother's maiden name. "I suppose you know her by Katniss Mellark now." He chuckled, making everyone laugh and raise their hands. I rose my hand, not wanting to stand out.

"That's more like it," He smiled, seeing that everyone had them up. "Well, I was from District 12 originally and I was Catnip's best friend." He began. He called my mother Catnip? No wonder she hardly talks about him.

"I was there when Prim was reaped and Katniss took her spot. It was really inspiring to say the least. Next, Peeta, her future husband, was reaped. They were whisked off to the games and survived. It was such an honor to have them come back home as the victors." He grinned, but something in his voice made it sound like he was hiding something. He didn't sound like he really was happy.

Annie rose her hand, slightly shaking it to get his attention. "My mom said that you lived with her in District 13. Is that true?" She questioned.

He slightly scoffed, placing his hand over his chest. "Just let me tell my story. I'll get there," he laughed, making my classmates smile. "After they were brought home, President Snow had told them they had to fight in the Hunger Games again."

Everyone gasped, never hearing this part of the story. I looked around, never hearing this myself. Mrs. Belling sat up in her desk, looking on edge. Gale must have noticed because his tone changed. "Well, after the next games, we were brought to District 13. I helped in the rebellion and together, we all defeated President Snow." He summarized.

I knew there was more to the story. I mean, I had never been told the rest of the story, but it was obvious. There was no way it was that simple. Otherwise, Dad and Mom would have told me. "Any questions?" He asked, clapping his hand together and rubbing them.

"Did you go to the Hunger Games?" Fin asked, leaning back in his seat.

"Thankfully, no. I was only involved in the rebellion." He answered, rocking on his heels.

Everyone continued asking their questions, but I didn't listen. I didn't care about Gale and I didn't care what he did. I knew there was a reason Mom had never brought him up before. I assumed it was because he did something bad.

After what had felt like a century, Mrs. Belling released us from school. Quickly, I shoved my books into my bag, wanting to get out of there as fast as I could. I didn't want Gale to follow me home or to even look at me again.

Swiftly, I tossed my backpack over my shoulder and rushed to the door. "Woah. What's the rush?" He asked, grabbing onto my shoulder. I let out a groan, turning around to face Gale.

His gray eyes studied my blue ones. "Look, I've gotta go. Rye's waiting for me." I grumbled, hoping he'd leave me alone. I turned around trying to walk out the door, but he stopped me, snatching my wrist and pulling me back.

"Are you kidding me? I didn't even get your name, Catnip." He stated. Ugh, this stupid nickname.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms across my chest. "It's Willow." I spat, wanting to get away from him.

"Geez, you sound like your mother." He smiled, slightly laughing as he rubbed his stubbled chin.

"Yeah, I get that a lot." I replied, narrowing my eyes at him. I was about to run out the door, knowing Rye was probably freaking out. He didn't like being left alone for too long.

"But the eyes," he ticked, shaking his head. "They aren't hers. Those are Peeta's." He explained.

"Your point?"

"My point? Well, how do you think I knew you were your mother's daughter?" He fired back. I shrugged my shoulders, my face straightforward.

"By looking at the attendance sheet? I'm sure it says Willow Mellark. That should be a dead giveaway." I scoffed, glaring at him as I popped out my hip. His jaw slightly dropped, then closed again.

"Funny." He sarcastically grinned.

"Yeah, so if our chitchat is over, I'd like to get back to my brother." I declared, walking out the door. He followed behind me. I could feel him lingering in my shadow, but the biggest giveaway was Rye running to his side.

"Mr. Hawthorne!" He cheered, running to give him a hug. "Did you meet Willow?" Rye asked, looking up at Gale.

"Yes, sir. And just like I figured, she was the sweetest girl I've ever met." Gale played along, making Rye giggle. I rolled my eyes, knowing that was a lie.

"Come on, Rye. We need to head home. Mom and Dad will be worried." I declared, staring off in the direction of our house.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hawthorne. We have to get home." Rye apologized, walking up to my side.

"It's cool, bud. I know how your parents get. And hey, you can just call me Gale." He replied, patting Rye's shoulder.

"Okay, Gale," Rye smiled. "Well, see ya!" He waved, following me on the path back home.

"Bye, Rye," Gale laughed. "And bye, Willow." He added. I huffed and didn't even bother to turn around to look at him. I can't believe he had the guts to come and talk to me. I tried to make it obvious that I hated him, but he continued to bug me.

I stormed my way home, pounding my feet into the ground. "I like Gale." Rye stated, briskly walking beside me.

"Ya, he's the coolest." I grumbled back, narrowing my eyes and clenching my backpack straps. I tightened my jaw, staring forward. Anger was just flowing through my veins.

"I know, right!" Rye cheered, jumping beside me. Too bad this kid doesn't understand sarcasm.


	4. Four

**Chapter Four**

"I missed." I breathed, watching my arrow fly past the flock of birds and landing in the meadow. I sighed, letting my arms hang loose at my side.

"It's alright, Willow. You'll get the next one." Dad encouraged from behind me. I turned around seeing him softly smiling at me from the worn out picnic blanket. The checkered pattern was faded and the edges were beginning to unravel, but we couldn't go to the meadow without that blanket.

"Hopefully." I sighed, biting my lower lip.

"I found primroses!" Rye cheered, running up the hill to our spot under the willow tree. He laid down his batch of flowers on the blanket, grinning from ear to ear. "I found them by myself!"

"Good job, Rye. Those are my favorite." Dad smiled, helping him lay them out on the blanket. Primroses were important in my family. They reminded Mom of her younger sister, Primrose. Prim had been killed in the war while she was saving the Capital's children. I didn't understand why she would risk her life to save the people who used to send us off into the Games, but Mom said it was because Prim had the biggest heart the world had ever seen.

"Come on, Willow. Let's try again." Mom stated, her arm wrapping around my shoulder to led me back to aim. I let out a sigh, nodding my head. I wanted to get this next one. I had to get this next one.

"What if I miss again?" I asked, nervousness present in my voice. My hands began to feel sweaty and my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

"You won't miss," Mom smiled, brushing my brown locks out of my blue eyes. She looked back towards the field, seeing another flock of birds coming in to land. "Now's our chance."

I reached behind me, pulling out an arrow. I slid it into my bow, making sure it was lined up perfectly. I closed my left eye, taking aim. My hands slightly shook as I pulled my hand backwards. "A little higher." Mom whispered. I slowly raised my bow, waiting for her next command. "Perfect."

I gulped, hoping this would be perfect. I wanted this so bad. I began to gnaw on the inside of my cheek, trying to distract myself. "Let it go." Mom softly encouraged. I released the pressure from my hands, watching the arrow sail through the air.

My jaw dropped as I heard it hit a bird. "I did it," I breathed. "I did it!" I cheered, jumping up and down. "Mom! Dad! I really did it!"

"You did wonderful, Willow!" Mom grinned, kissing my forehead. I laughed, running to Dad's side.

"I'm so proud of you, Peanut." Dad congratulated using my nickname. I giggled as he cupped my face and wiggled his nose against mine. We had done this ever since I could remember.

"Yay, 'Low!" Rye cheered, clapping his hands from the blanket. He brightly smiled at me, through I don't think he really knew what I did. He was too busy counting the flowers and making there was enough for everyone to has the same amount.

"Let's go get your prize," Mom smiled, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. Briskly, we walked down the hill, hurrying to the sight of my first kill. Mom took a deep breath, looking around at the scenery. "Ahh. Don't you love the smell of fall?" She asked.

"Yeah, but I like the look of fall much more." I replied, looking up at the trees that were now shades of red, orange, brown, and yellow. It reminded me of a painting Dad had done before Rye was born that was now hanging up in the spare room.

"Well, you are your father's daughter," Mom teased, bumping my side, making me laugh. "But you're just as much his as you are mine. I mean, my little Willow just got her first kill all by herself." Mom proudly grinned.

"And we all know I got that skill from you." I replied, smiling up at her. She looked down, her gray eyes meeting mine.

"Of course. Your dad probably couldn't hit a target if it was two feet in front of him," Mom laughed as we approached my kill. We looked to the ground, picking it up to admire it. Mom whistled, holding it high in the air. "This is a beauty."

I grinned, nodding my head. I reached my hand out, wanting to hold it. Mom noticed my desperation and gently placed it in my hand. My eyes widened as I stared at it. I got this all on my own. I couldn't wait to tell everyone at school.

We headed back up the hill, excitement running through my body. I wanted to tell everybody right now! I did a little skip, unable to control my emotions. I had to keep moving, otherwise my energy would just be trapped inside. Mom chuckled behind me.

We got back to the top by Dad and Rye and as I was placing my kill in the basket, I heard his little voice say the worst thing at the possibly the worst time. "Hey, Mom. We meet Mr. Hawthorne the other day."

Everyone froze, unsure what they heard. I looked back and forth at Mom and Dad and could feel my cheeks heating up. "Mr. Hawthorne?" Mom repeated, raising her eyebrow.

Rye nodded his head. "Yeah. He said-"

"That he was from District 2 and was coming in to visit 12 because he was originally from here before the rebellion." I stated, cutting Rye off. I didn't want Mom and Dad to know everything we knew about him. I didn't want them to worry.

"Really?" Dad asked, glancing at Mom, raising his eyebrows at her.

She looked at Rye and me then crossed her arms across her chest. She took a deep breath, her lips in a straight line. "What else did he say?" She questioned, eyeing both of us.

"That you two were friends," Rye happily answered. Mentally, I face palmed. Mom and Dad weren't supposed to find out and Rye decided to tell them everything. It was obvious that Mom was beginning to fuse, yet he continued on. "He also said that we could call him Gale."

"Is that so?" Mom grumbled as she changed her stare onto me. "Did he say anything else, Willow?"

I gulped, looking to the ground. I didn't want to tell her. I honestly just wanted Gale to go away and never come back. "Come on, 'Low. Spit it out." Dad joined in, looking up at me with his matching eyes.

"He said that he knew I was your daughter because I looked and talked like you, but the only difference was that I had Dad's eyes." I mumbled, rubbing left hand up and down my left arm.

Mom let out a sigh as she furrowed her eyebrows. I began to grow nervous, scared of how she would react. Dad patted the ground beside him, looking up at me. I softly smiled at him, glad he was going to comfort me.

I crawled beside him on the blanket, looking up at Mom as I cuddled on Dad's side. He ran his fingers through my brown locks as he watched Mom pace back and forth. "Did we do something wrong?" Rye asked.

"No, baby. You did nothing wrong," Mom quickly reassured, bending down to kiss Rye's forehead. "Mama's just a little mad at Gale." She explained, resting her hands on her knees.

"Why?" He questioned, looking up at her. Mom paused, furrowing her eyebrows. She glanced at Dad then back at Rye. She stood up, resting her hands on her hips.

"I think we should head home and cook Willow's bird. Doesn't that sound delicious?" She stated, ignoring his question. Rye cocked his head, opening his mouth to speak.

"I agree. That sounds wonderful." Dad quickly agreed, standing up. I sat up, following suit to pack up our things. Rye closed his mouth, losing his train of thought.

"Can we invite Uncle Haymitch?" He questioned, looking up at Dad then Mom.

"Of course. When we get home, you can run over and ask him. Just don't forget his liquor." She smiled, kissing his blonde, curly hair. Rye giggled, quickly running over to help me fold. It was crazy how fast he could be distracted.

xxx

"Wait. Gale's back?" Haymitch asked before he took a swig of his liquor. I glanced up from the floor, watching their shadows dance on the wall. I was laying on the floor in the living room, 'doing' my homework.

In all honesty, I was faking it. I just wanted to listen to the adults talk. I wanted to know more about Gale, especially what they thought of him. They would never let me listen in because I was just a child, so I had to spy. I faked my homework and hoped they wouldn't whisper. Thankfully, they didn't.

"That's what Rye told us today," Dad answered, his voice sounding defensive. "What is that jackass doing back here?" He mumbled under his breath.

"'Low explained on the way home that he came back to talk to their class about the rebellion, but why him? They could have picked anyone and they picked Gale." Mom groaned, her chops becoming louder and faster.

"Like who?" Haymitch grumbled.

"You. You were in the rebellion." Dad replied, his shadow gesturing to Uncle Haymitch.

"Yes, let's send the drunk to go talk to the children," Haymitch mocked. "That'll really make the parents happy."

"It'd be better than Gale." Dad mumbled back, his shadow standing up to move beside Mom. I liked Uncle Haymitch and I wished he would have talked to our class. He would have been much more fun, especially since I knew him personally.

"What do your children think of the living piece of shit?" Haymitch questioned before he took another swig. Mom sighed, her shadow resting her hands on the counter.

"I don't know. Rye seemed excited to talk about him." She replied, her voice sounding tired. I guessed she was tired, especially because she just spent all day outside and now she was preparing dinner.

"Willow was a hard book to read. She didn't really want to talk about him. In fact, she actually acted like he annoyed her." Dad added, finishing Mom's thought. Mom agreed, beginning to chop the vegetables again.

"How much does she know about him and us?" Haymitch asked. Wait. Uncle Haymitch knew Gale too? I should have known. Uncle Haymitch served as Mom and Dad's mentor in the games, so they were bound to meet at some point.

"She knows that we were hunting partners before the Games, but other than that, we never talked about him. I have no idea what he told the kids at school." Mom explained, her voice becoming softer with each sentence.

"I just hope it wasn't anything about us." Dad stated.

"I'm betting he just talked about the damn rebellion since he likes to ride his high horse all over District 2 talking about it nonstop." Haymitch grumbled.

"I just hope he didn't talk about-" Mom started.

"Hey, Willow. Whatcha up to?" Rye questioned, blocking my view and cutting off the sentence. I furrowed my eyebrows, reaching my right hand out to cover his mouth.

"Shh! I'm trying to listen!" I harshly whispered, slightly pushing him to the side. Quickly, the conversation stopped. Dang it. Now they know I'm listening in.

"So, what do you think of Willow's kill? Isn't it amazing?" Mom stated, changing the conversation.

"Like mother like daughter." Haymitch replied, raising his glass at her before he took another drink. I vibrated my lips as I let out a sigh. Isn't that just great? I was supposed to learn more about Gale.

"What was that about?" Rye asked, scrunching his nose at me. I shook my head, my brown locks falling over my shoulders.

"Sorry, Rye. I just thought I heard something in the kitchen." I excused, sadness present in my voice.

"Oh, well, it was just the adults. Nothing to worry about!" He grinned, nodding his head. I looked up at him, my blue eyes meeting his gray ones.

"Exactly." I sighed, gently frowning.

"Rye! Willow! Come here and greet Uncle Haymitch!" Mom called out. Quickly, we ran to the kitchen, greeting him as he placed kisses on our cheeks. If only they would continue their earlier conversation.


	5. Five

**Chapter Five**

"Come on, Rye! We gotta make the pile bigger!" I declared as I shoved the colorful leaves into a bigger stack. The weather was starting to cool down now and most of the trees had lost their leaves, beginning to look bare. Rye and I decided to spend that afternoon making leaf piles.

"I'm comin'! I'm comin'!" He giggled, running as fast as he could with his armful of leaves. He tripped over a tree root, sending most of his leaves flying. He rolled onto his side, laughing up a storm.

"Are you okay?" I asked, laughter slipping into my question. He nodded his head as he held onto his sides. "Well, then hurry up and grab your leaves! We have to make this the biggest pile yet!" I grinned.

"Okay! Okay!" He tittered, quickly snatching all of his leaves again. He dumped them into the pile, making sure to smash it down a little.

"We need more leaves!" I declared before running off to find some more. I licked my lips, pushing the stack to make it nice and fluffy. I wanted this leaf pile to be awesome! I couldn't wait to jump into it and watch the colorful leaves float to the ground. "We need, like, two more armloads!" I stated.

"I got one!" Rye answered, waddling back as fast as he could. He plopped the leaves into the pile then shook out his shirt, sending a few more to float to the ground. "Those got stuck in my shirt when I scooped up the last batch." He explained, giggling.

"Well, go get another batch. Then it should be ready." I smiled, making him nod his head and run off to find some more leaves. We had already used all the leaves around our house and Uncle Haymitch's, so Rye really had to go searching for more.

"I found a bunch more by Lucas's house! I hope he doesn't mind." Rye stated as he dropped the last batch of leaves.

"He won't mind. Plus, I don't think he'll even notice. And he can't prove that we took it so." I replied, standing up from the ground. I wiped the dirt off of my jeans and stood beside Rye.

"This is so cool!" He cheered, slightly jumping and down. I propped my hands on my hips and proudly smiled at our work. I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins. I was just itching to jump into that pile.

Rye turned his head up to look at me. "When are we going to jump in?" He asked, his gray eyes sparking with excitement.

"On the count of three," I answered. We both faced forward, bringing our arms back and slightly bending our knees. "One." I started.

We wiggled our fingers and licked our smiling lips. "Two." I continued.

"Three!" We shouted together as we jumped high into the air. The leaves exploded into the air, the colors flashing everywhere. We couldn't stop laughing as we laid on our backs in the crunchy leaves.

I watched them gently float to the ground and land all around us. "Let's make leaf angels!" Rye laughed, rubbing his arms and legs in the pile. I giggled and joined in. I closed my eyes and waved my arms faster and faster.

"I bet I can go faster than you!" I declared, challenging him.

"Nuh-uh!" He argued, his giggles slipping into his argument.

"Look! I'm already going faster than you!" I grinned, quickly waving arms and legs .

"No fair! You had a head start!" He laughed, making his arms and legs go faster. Soon, I couldn't feel my limbs anymore. They had begun to feel like wobbly slime. I tried to stand up, but I felt like I was going to trip over.

I forced myself up, proudly looking down at my leaf angel. It was much better than Rye's, but that was only because I was much older and more experienced, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt. "Yours is way better than mine." I stated.

"Really?" He asked, grinning up at me.

"Of course! You can see your body shape, unlike mine." I explained as I pulled the stray leaves out of his blonde, curly hair.

"Well, I still like yours. It still looks pretty." He complimented as I continued to tug out the stubborn leaves out of his tangled hair. I was thankful that I wasn't cursed with curly hair.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. "Rye," I began. He hummed, looking back up at me. "Do you want to scare Uncle Haymitch?" I asked.

He gasped, then quickly nodded his head, a smile filling his face. "Yes! Yes! Let's scare Uncle Haymitch!" He cheered, jumping up and down. Quickly, we scooped up our leaves and began to move them to Haymitch's house.

"He's going to be so scared." Rye giggled as he carried his armload of leaves with me.

"I know. It'll be so funny." I agreed as I plopped down my leaves on the ground. I quickly began to make one big pile, knowing Rye and I were going to be in the pile together.

"Do you think he'll scream?" Rye asked, smiling up at me as we ran back to our house to grab another batch of leaves.

"I hope so! Otherwise this would be completely worthless." I replied, pushing the leaves into my arms and carefully picking up my pile. I arched my back, laying most of the leaves on my chest.

"Just wait till Mom and Dad hear. They'll laugh their butts off." Rye giggled, his shoulders shaking. He dropped a few leaves on his way back to Haymitch's, but as soon as he dropped his pile he quickly ran back to grab them. He wanted every single leaf in sight to join us on this prank.

"Wait. How are we supposed to scare him?" Rye questioned, tilting his head up at me. He blinked his gray eyes that were full of confusion. He was so excited to do this that he didn't even know how we were going to carry out this plan.

"Well, we're going to hid under these leaves and when we hear his footsteps coming up the sidewalk, we'll jump out and scare him." I explained as I propped my hands on my hips. He awed, nodding his head.

"But wait, isn't he inside his house?" He quickly fired back. "Should I knock on his door and wait until he comes outside?" He offered.

"No, I saw him leave earlier this morning. He should be back soon, considering Dad is baking tonight." I shrugged.

"Oh, well, that makes sense. Uncle Haymitch does like Dad's treats a lot." Rye nodded as he dropped to the ground. He began to push the leaves together, making the pile higher and fluffier.

"Okay, Rye. Jump inside and I'll cover you up." I declared. Happily, he stood up and jumped inside. He laid down on his stomach, laughing as I covered him with the leaves. I left a spot open so he could see. I even made sure that you couldn't see his eyes unless you knew they were there.

I laid down beside him and started to cover myself with leaves. "Don't worry, Willow. I can help cover you." He stated, rustling his leaves as he started to stand up.

"No! No!" I argued, making him stop. "Don't move, Rye. Yours looks perfect right now." I explained.

"But then who will make yours perfect?"

"I can do it myself. I'm twelve years old after all." I fired back, covering myself with more leaves. Soon, I felt like I was completely hidden from the world. It was like we were spies hiding in bushes.

It took a long time before I heard Uncle Haymitch coming back. I'm almost positive I fell asleep a couple of times. I stiffened up, hearing him mumbling something to himself as he slowly walked past.

His feet were almost to our leaf pile. I placed my hands on the ground, excited to jump out and scare him. It was like Rye was reading my mind. We jumped out at the same time.

"Boo!" Rye shouted as I loudly screamed. Haymitch slightly jumped as Rye fell to the ground laughing. I slapped my knees, sound not coming out of me. Uncle Haymitch's face was so hilarious.

"Goodness, you goofballs really scared me." Haymitch chuckled, watching us laugh at him.

"Uncle Haymitch, did you know we were in there?" Rye asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. His face was red from laughing and there were tears in his gray eyes.

"Nope. You scared me. I thought it was just a pile of leaves." Haymitch replied, smiling widely.

I covered my mouth, his comment making me laugh. I couldn't believe we actually scared Uncle Haymitch. I guess we really did do a good job at hiding. "We really got you good." I grinned.

"You sure did, sweetheart. I thought for sure you guys were playing at home." He smiled, his gray eyes looking into mine.

"Nope! We decided to scare you!" Rye declared, standing up from the ground. "Come on, Uncle Haymitch! Let's go tell Mom and Dad! They'll think it's so funny!" Rye laughed, snatching onto Haymitch's hand and dragging back to our house.

xxx

"Mom, his face was so funny. It was like, 'Ah!'" Rye explained at the dinner table, showing her what he thought Haymitch's face looked like. Everyone gently chuckled, watching Rye reenact the scene for at least the tenth time tonight.

"I'm sure Uncle Haymitch was very scared, Rye." Mom softly smiled at him, slightly nodding her head. I'm sure she wanted him to stop talking about it. I mean, I wanted him to stop talking about it since that was all he would talk about it.

"Oh, he was. He nearly jumped ten feet into the air!" He continued, talking with his hands.

"Come on, Rye. It's time to eat now." Dad chuckled, pointing at Rye's plate.

"Oh, right." Rye giggled, digging back into his food. I silently sighed, thankful that my brother was finally quiet. Now maybe I could hear more about Gale. He was still in 12 and I wanted to know what the adults thought about it.

"So, who's ready to go back to school tomorrow?" Mom asked, a gentle smirk on her face as she eyed the both of us. Rye and I shook our heads, scrunching our noses.

"I'd much rather stay here and play with Willow." Rye quickly argued after swallowing his food whole like a snake.

"School is so boring." I added, loosening my shoulders. Maybe if I showed them how much I hated school, they would let me stay home tomorrow.

"Boring? I thought you had Mr. Hawthorne there?" Dad asked, arching his eyebrow at me.

"He's boring. Plus, I don't like him. He's always trying to talk to me." I confessed, looking down at my food. The table became silent, the adults thinking about what to say. Oh, how I wanted them to let me stay home.

"He must be ignoring the other children then if he wants to gain your attention." Haymitch grinned. It was known around 12 that I didn't exactly have the best personality. I was basically seen as a snotty, stuck up girl. In all honesty, I just didn't like the attention of others. I would much rather be hidden in the background.

"Yeah. It gets super annoying. He follows me like a lost puppy or somethin'." I mumbled, making them laugh.

"Don't worry, peanut. He'll leave you alone soon." Dad grinned, his matching blue eyes looking into mine. I softly vibrated my lips and rolled my eyes.

"Can he leave me alone now?" I asked, making them laugh a little bit harder. I didn't think it was that funny though. Maybe I just had a bad sense of humor, but he was honestly bugging me to the extreme. I would much rather be trapped in the school for the next two weeks then spend another day around him.


	6. Six

**Chapter Six**

"Have fun at school," Dad stated, kissing both of our cheeks. "Love you!" He called out as we left the house. Mom was already out hunting so Dad had to see us off. I had my backpack looped over one shoulder while Rye had his on both.

"Love you too, Dad!" We called back, waving at him. His grin was wide as we watched him tease us by shutting the door then opening it again until we were out of sight.

"I like when Dad sees us off to school." Rye smiled, hopping on one foot then both like he was playing hopscotch. I glanced over at him, brushing my brown braids over my shoulder. Dad had sloppily done them this morning, telling Mom last night that he knew how to do them. He said it was just like tying knots, only, I hope he didn't tie knots into my hair.

"Yeah, me too." I agreed, smiling. I wished we could stay home with Mom and Dad all day. I had a lot of fun playing in the leaves and getting my first kill. I wished everyday could be like that.

The sight and sound of the schoolhouse made my smile drop. The idea of being trapped indoors with a bunch of maniacs made me want to run for the meadow. It sounded like a much safer, not to mention more fun, plan.

"Good morning, Willow." Mrs. Belling greeted at the door as I entered in.

"Good morning." I answered back, though my voice sounded like I woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Technically, I guess I did. I didn't want to be here so that made me 'grumpy' as Haymitch would say.

I sat down in my desk, waiting for the rest of my classmates to take their seats. I glanced out the window, watching the flock of mockingjays swoop outside. They were a family favorite, in fact, the nation's favorite bird. Mother constantly wears her pin of one. Dad said it was given to her as a gift from her friend, Madge, before the Games. We have scattered symbols of mockingjays everywhere around the nation. They must have been important in the rebellion, otherwise I'm sure they wouldn't be around to this day.

"Okay, class," Mrs. Belling began, gathering our attentions. "To start the day off and get all of our jitters out, we're going to talk about a song."

All of us began to chatter, saying our ideas of what song she was thinking of. There are many songs that we sing as we dance, jump rope, and play games that involve clapping. We all had different ideas about what she could be talking about. "Settle down, settle down." She commanded, gathering our attention again.

"So, how many of you know the valley song?" She asked. Almost everyone's hand went up. Most of our parents sang it to us as babies as lullabies. The few kids who didn't know it turned around in their desks, trying to find someone else who didn't.

"Okay. Good," Mrs. Belling smiled, nodding her head at the number. "Now who wants to sing it?" She asked. Every hand that was up quickly went down, including mine. But as I looked back at Mrs. Belling, I quickly realized that I had to step up to the plate and sing for the class.

Slowly, my hand inched towards the sky. I felt the eyes turn to look at me. Most of the faces smiled at me, glad I was the one to be brave enough to sing. "Perfect. Willow, will you come up to the front?"

As I rose from the desk, Dad's voice began to echo in my head. He told me about the first he fell for my mother. He said that he knew he loved her when the birds stopped to listen to her sing. When she sang me to sleep that night, I noticed how everything became silent, leaning their ears towards her voice.

I stood in front of the class, hoping I could have the same effect on my classmates. Dad said it was passed on from my grandfather to Mom, and I hoped that it was blessed onto me as well. Unless, of course, I inherited Dad's voice, which wasn't meant for singing, only speaking.

"Do you need me to give you a starting pitch?" Mrs. Belling questioned, looking me over. I shook my head, making my braids slightly slap my shoulders. I knew this song by memory. Mom sings it to us every night.

I cleared my voice and closed my eyes. Maybe if I didn't see the crowd, I could sing confidently. I tightened my fists and rocked on my heels.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes

And when again they open, the sun will rise."

"Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you."

I opened my eyes, watching my classmates stare in awe. Outside, I could hear the mockingjays picking up my tune, bouncing it back and forth to each other. A blush began to rush onto my cheeks as they smiled at me, not wanting to clap so they wouldn't scare off the mockingjays.

"You may sit down, Willow. That was gorgeous." She congratulated, her hand resting on my shoulder as I walked back to my seat. I sat down, keeping my head forward. I felt good. I felt calm. I felt at peace.

Soon, the birds died down, flying off or finding another tune to hum. "How many of you know what that song meant during the Rebellion?" She questioned, gathering our attention again.

Fin raised his hand, leaning back in his desk. "It was a lullaby to Rue." He briefly stated. I had learned bits and pieces of Rue from school. I knew she was Mom's ally who was killed in the arena. Mom sang her into the afterlife and placed flowers around her. But that was all I knew.

"Very good, Fin. Today, we were going to watch the clip. Now, some of it may seem scary, but this is our history." She explained, her eyes locking with mine. I have to watch this?

She shut off the lights, sending us into a calm darkness. The screen flickered on and the clip began to show on the wall. I clutched my shirt with my fists and began to gnaw on the insides of my cheek. I wasn't prepared for this.

I watched Rue, who I could now give a face to, squirm and shout for Mom. Her voice pierced through the air, sending shivers down my arms and I wasn't even there. Mom rushed to her side and watched as the spear stabbed through the girl who couldn't be much older than me.

I jumped in my desk, watching Mom swiftly hit the attacker in the neck with her arrow. He fell to the ground, no doubt instantly dead as he pulled out the arrow. The cannon boomed, signaling what I predicted. We had learned that cannons tell others when someone dies.

Suddenly, I watched my mother comfort Rue, brushing back her hair. "Sing." Rue croaked, her brown eyes staring into my mother's gray ones. I took notice at how young my mother looked, but her face was full of emotions I couldn't quite place. Anger? Fear? Sadness? I wasn't sure if it was one or many combined.

My mother's hoarse voice began to fill the room, singing the song that I thought was a harmless lullaby. I quickly realized how much of a backstory it held. It wasn't just about sleeping in some meadow where everything is calm and beautiful. It was now some little girl's death song.

The scene cuts to my mother placing flowers around Rue's body. She looked like an angel from the way Mom had delicately decorated the flowers in her hair. It was almost as if Rue was asleep and one wrong move would stir her from her peaceful slumber.

The camera cut to my mother, she held three fingers to her lips the raised them to the sky. In the background, I could hear the mockingjays singing the valley song to one another, making sure everyone knew it.

My stomach began to churn and I though I was going to hurl. My legs tapped an uneven beat as I tried to bring myself back to reality. That happened over twenty years ago. Everything is okay now. I felt the sweat begin to trickle down my back and my forehead. Why couldn't this be over yet?

Almost as if she could hear my pleas, the screen shut off and she turned back on the lights. Everyone had tears in their eyes, but I thought I was going to pass out. I never wanted to experience something like that again. I didn't want to see what part my mother and father had. I didn't want to see with of them kill anyone again.

"We'll end there for today." Mrs. Belling softly whispered, wiping a tear from her own face. I placed my forehead on my desk and held my arms tight to my body. I watched my mother kill someone I thought.

xxx

I had skipped supper, dismissing it as a stomach ache. In all honestly, I thought if I took one bite that I might hurl it back up. I suppose my mother and father could tell my uneasiness during the day. I came home and just laid on the couch. The images where enough to frighten me.

I quickly changed for bed, hoping maybe I could sleep it off. That usually worked. I slept off bad days most nights anyway. I crawled into bed and rested my head on my pillow, staring at the wall. The cracks around the door almost gave a me a sense of comfort. They showed what the house had been through. Maybe the previous owners hadn't taken care of it as well as us, but it was okay now. Watching the clip today was just a small bump in my road. I would get over it.

Mom peeked into my room, seeing me swarmed in my blankets. She softly smiled, walking over to sit beside me on the floor. "Have a rough day, Pearl?" She asked, running her hand through my hair. My parents had given me the nickname Pearl, though I had no idea why.

"Just tired." I mumbled back, staring into her soft gray eyes. They matched the eyes I saw in the clip. Calm, gentle, and comforting. Maybe that's why Rue felt safe enough to drift away into eternal peace in my mother's arms.

"Yeah," Mom sighed, her hand moving my dark locks from my face. "How about a lullaby?" She asked. I slightly tensed up, then nodded my head. Her voice has always been soothing.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft-"

"No!" I quickly cut off, my hand covering her mouth. I couldn't hear that song. Not now, anyway. It would just haunt me all night if I listened to it again. Images of Rue began to enter my mind, making me feel queasy again.

Her smile faded, maybe realizing what I knew. She kissed my forehead. "I'll find another one. I'll be back." She declared, before walking out of my room. She must know that I know about Rue now. Why else would I request something else?

I heard her in the kitchen, discussing something with my father. I couldn't understand what they were saying. I could only tell who was speaking by the pitch of their voices. Before I knew it, I heard their footsteps walk up the stairs towards my room. They softly smiled, sitting down beside me.

They must know. They must. Otherwise Dad wouldn't have felt the need the tag along to make sure I fell asleep. "Dad has thought of another one." Mom explained, leaning her head towards mine.

I looked into his matching blue eyes, unsure of what I saw. Was he sad? Sympathetic? Maybe he really did just think I was sick. He reached over, planting a kiss on my forehead, closing my eyes. His tender hands began to run though my hair, making me feel safe and secure.

Mom took this as a chance to try out my new lullaby. Her sweet and gentle voice filled my ears, though I could hardly hear the words after a certain point, only the melody.

"Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Where they strung up a man they say who murdered three.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

Slowly, I felt myself drifting into a calm, peacefully sleep. Dad's movements were comforting and soothing.

"Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

Outside, everything was silent and quiet, yearning to hear the rest of my mother's tune.

"Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."

Soon, I felt myself leaving the world, my eyelids becoming heavy. Everything was dark and still. My breathing had slowed down and I could hardly focus on the song anymore.

"Are you, are you

Coming to the tree

Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.

Strange things did happen here

No stranger would it be

If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."


	7. Seven

**Chapter Seven**

"Willow," Mom sang in my ear, shaking me awake. "Li'l Willow, it's time for school." She repeated as I opened my eyes to met her gray ones. I softly smiled and stretched as she sat down on the edge of my bed.

"Good morning." I yawned as I sat up, running my fingers through my knotted hair. Maybe Dad really did tie knots in my hair yesterday. I wouldn't put it past him.

"Did you sleep good?" She asked. I nodded my head, making her smile. "Good. Come downstairs. Your dad made your favorite." She explained as she left my room.

Quickly, I tossed the covers aside and chased after her, beating her down the steps. I took a deep breath, the smell of cinnamon filling my nose. Rye was already at the table eating. I took a seat beside him, grinning as I watched Dad carry over my plate full of cinnamon rolls.

"Good morning, Peanut," he greeted, kissing the top of my head. He slid my plate in front of my drooling mouth. "Sleep well?" He asked.

"Yeah, I slept great." I grinned as I quickly stuffed my face full. Dad always makes the best rolls. He smiled, nodding his head.

"Good. I was afraid of that stomachache of yours bothering you through the night, but you sure seem hungry for these." He teased. I stopped chewing, realizing I was still supposed to be sick. Then I wouldn't have to go to school.

"Yup, it looks like she's in the perfect condition to go to school this morning." Mom added, sitting down across from me. Well, I guess I can't get out school anymore. I let out a little sigh, going back to eating my treat.

Rye's hair was a mess, the curls tangling with other ones. His gray eyes were drooping, but he still shoveled fork loads into his mouth. He stared into the distance. I wasn't sure if he was sleep eating or beginning to doze off again.

"Hurry up and eat. School starts soon and you don't want to be late." Mom encouraged, seeing Rye's eyes close then shoot open again. He finished his plate and went his room to change.

Before I could leave the table, Haymitch arrived. He usually doesn't make it to breakfast. Typically, he sleeps in till past noon. It's weird to see him here so soon. "Uncle Haymitch." I smiled.

"Hey, sweet pea," He mumbled, ruffling my hair. He sat down at the table, sitting in Rye's spot next to me. "Peeta, mind bringing me something to eat?" He asked, leaning past me to see into the kitchen.

Dad grumbled something under his breath then handed Haymitch a plate filled with rolls. Haymitch grinned, slightly twirling his fork before stabbing it into the delicious roll. I turned back to my food.

Dad finally sat down at the table, smiling at me. I gave a quick smile back then stood up to put my plate away. "Pass me the butter, sweetheart." Haymitch declared, holding his hand out. Mom rolled her gray eyes and Dad chuckled beside her as she gave Haymitch the butter.

I rushed up to my room, quickly getting ready for school. We had an assignment to ask our parents and grandparents where they were when they first heard news about a rebellion. Of course, this wasn't a hard task for me at all. In fact, I could almost guarantee that she won't call on me today. It was pretty obvious where my parents were.

xxx

Finally, the last kid had spoken. I heard everything from being in a coal mine to fishing on a dock. Everyone in my class all had different stories than I would have expected, but a part of me wished I would have asked. It was a fairly simple task, but I was afraid that it would spark something too close to home. Oh well, I can ask them tonight when they're not tending to my mental wounds.

"I have another assignment," Mrs. Belling smiled, holding a sheet of paper. Most people groaned, tossing back their heads at the thought. By this point, I was only expecting worse and worse assignments to come rolling in. I wasn't even phased at the word anymore. "Next week, I want you to bring in someone from your family that feels comfortable talking about the rebellion."

That caught my attention. My eyes widened at the thought of bringing someone in to speak about their difficult time. I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, debating about who to bring. I wanted to bring someone who didn't have too much trauma from the experience, but that was hard to weigh. Dad had more physical pain, I suppose. Most of his left leg was amputated and replaced with a prosthetic one, making it slightly difficult to walk. But Mom was the symbol of the rebellion. She's on nearly every poster for freedom I've ever seen.

I ignored my math lesson, fighting with myself over who to drag to this horrible assignment. I suppose I could bring both so they could support one another, but that could just traumatize both of them. I didn't know what to do.

Before I knew it, it was already time to head home again. I hoped there was some leftover rolls from breakfast, but in the pit of my stomach, I knew Haymitch ate them all. I got caught in the flow of the students trying to leave, making me have to talk with people today. "So, Willow, I'm guessing you're going to bring your parents, right?" Prim asked, her blue eyes meeting mine.

"Maybe. I'm not sure yet." I answered, shrugging my shoulders. I really didn't want to bring anyone. Maybe if I faked being sick, I could escape this stupid speaking assignment.

"If my mother and father were victors and a huge part in the rebellion, there would be no question about what I'd do," she scoffed, giving me her opinion that I didn't ask for. "My parents hardly did anything in the rebellion. Too young." She explained. "But, my grandparents did do a few things, but nothing like your parents. Both of their duties combined and doubled wouldn't make up for what your mother did in one day, I suppose."

"Every job was important." I countered, trying to turn away from this subject. I hated when people weighed their family against mine, claiming mine did all of the work in the rebellion. Dad told me that everyone was important, and I believe him. After all, we couldn't all be symbols.

"Please, all my grandparents did was sit in their house in the Capital and watch the Hunger Games go on for years until the star-crossed lovers appeared and made them realize how idiotic the Games really were," she huffed, rolling her blue eyes. "After that, then they were against the Capital, but in secret, of course. They didn't do anything besides happen to be in the area where my grandmother got bombed."

I stared forward, unsure what to say. It was true. It's hard to have Capital loving grandparents speak if I bring my star-crossed lover parents into the mix. I would blow the rest of the students out of the water. But I didn't want to do that.

Rye rushed to my side, grinning from ear to ear. "Gale said he's coming over for dinner tonight." He declared.

"What?" I exclaimed, scrunching my nose at him. My day could not get any worse. I have to find someone to spill out their rebellion experience and survive supper with Gale at my table? No way. I won't allow it!

"Yeah, he said he was invited by Mom and Dad. Isn't it cool?" He explained, his gray eyes sparkling with delight. No. It isn't cool. It's terrible. It's the worst news I've ever received.

"Gee. Sounds like we'll have so much fun tonight." I grumbled, rolling my blue eyes.

Rye giggled, holding his backpack straps close to his body. "I know right!"

I let out a sigh, deciding to drop the conversation. There were too many things trying to fill up my mind at the moment. Gale eating with us. Finding some poor soul to lay out their rebellion problems. The image of Rue in the flowers. The clip of my mother killing someone without hesitation.

Ugh. A shiver ran down my back at the thought of the last one. That was not something I wanted to think about again. It was something I should just bury deep, deep down inside of myself and try to forget.

"Geese!" Rye shouted, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked up, and sure enough, Uncle Hahmitch was outside feeding his geese. Rye ran off towards them and I followed. I loved Uncle Haymitch's geese.

Their obnoxiously loud honks filled the air as we got closer and closer. "Hi, Uncle Haymitch." Rye greeted, patting each goose on the head. I stroked my hand over a little one, hearing his tiny honks of delight.

"How are my favorite kiddos?" He asked, tossing out more food for them. The only time Haymitch feeds his geese is when he's out of liquor. Which, makes sense, since the train hasn't been here in a while.

"Good." We answered. He nodded his head, walking over to sit on his front steps. We followed suit, sitting beside him.

"Uncle Haymitch," Rye started. "When will your geese fly south?" He asked, looking up into his matching gray eyes.

"My geese don't fly south," he grumbled. "They have plenty of food right here." He answered.

"Oh. I thought all geese fly south." Rye replied, his gray eyes staring forward again. We sat in the quiet, watching them honk at each other. Suddenly, I felt the need to tell Haymitch about tonight.

"Haymitch," I begin, gathering his attention. "Gale is coming over for supper tonight." I stated.

"Gale?" He questioned, furrowing his eyebrows at me. "As in Gale, your mother's hunting partner and best friend Gale?" He clarified. I nodded my head, slightly turning up my nose.

"I'm really excited," Rye added, not noticing our obvious hated for the man. "He's pretty cool. Did you know he got to fly in one of those cool spaceships?" He smiled, still watching the geese honk and chase each other.

"Did you know I got to fly in one of those spaceships?" Haymitch fired back. Rye turned around, his eyes as wide as plates. He shook his head, a grin plastered on his face.

"Tell me a story about it! Tell me! Tell me!" Rye begged, nearly bouncing on the steps. Haymitch leaned forward. I could tell he was about to say something to crush his spirits, but decided against it.

"Sorry, kiddo. I don't have any good stories. They're all very...well...boring." He slowly nodded, softly smirking. Rye rolled his gray eyes, shaking his head at Haymitch.

"It was too long ago, wasn't it?" He asked, a slightly sadness present in his voice.

"Exactly. I'm an old man who forgets where I keep my keys to the house." Haymitch agreed, leaning back against the steps.

"And to your liquor cabinet." Rye added, smiling at him.

Haymitch raised his hand, pointing at Rye and slightly lowered his eyelids. "Exactly, Squirt." He grinned, using my parents' nickname for Rye. He giggled, giving Haymitch a hug.

I licked my lips, debating about what to do. Gale was definitely going to ruin my night. I couldn't even stand looking at him during school, let alone in my house. I squirmed, thinking about how I'd have to sit across from him today at the table.

I turned and looked at Haymitch, who was now free from Rye's tight grasp. "You're joining us, right?" I asked, hoping he'd hear the pleading in my voice.

"Yes! Uncle Haymitch, you have to!" Rye joined in. Yes! There was no way Haymitch could say no to Rye. He was too sweet and innocent. And Haymitch, well, we all know what he's like.

He rolled back his gray eyes, letting out a long sigh. I could tell this was killing him. "Fine. But only because you kids are getting on my nerves." He grumbled.

I silently cheered, thankful that I wouldn't be the only one who hated Gale at the supper table tonight. Rye jumped up into the air, startling a few of the geese. "Careful! You're scaring the geese!" Haymitch scolded as Rye took off for the house, joy radiating off of him.

I stood up and Haymitch followed suit, cracking his back before he went inside his house. "You better head home. I'm sure your darling mother wants you to look absolutely stunning tonight for our guest." He stated, making me pout. He knew how much I hated dresses. I listened to him laugh as he shut the door.

I huffed, heading home. I should be grateful that Haymitch willingly decided to come over for supper. If he wasn't going to be there, I'm not sure what I would do. He was going to be my rock for tonight.

I entered the house, smelling the air. Dad had baked again and Mom's game was in the oven, roasting itself into sweet deliciousness. Oh, the idea was nearly making my mouth drool.

I wandered into the kitchen, hoping I could sneak a bite, but my wrist was quickly caught. "Nope! Upstairs. Now." Mom commanded, pulling my hand away from Dad's cheese buns.

"Aww!" I whined, slouching my shoulders. Mom shook her head, shoving me towards the stairs.

"No whining, Willow. Gale will be here any minute and I don't need him to see you at your worst." She argued, nearly carrying me up to the steps.

"But Mom!" I groaned. I already knew what was waiting for me at the top. A nice, clean dress and pinching shoes to match. No doubt they came from Aunt Effie. Even though I have never met the woman, she send me gifts on my birthday and Christmas.

"Willow, listen to your mother." Dad called from the kitchen, backing her up. I rolled my eyes as Mom pointed to my room, blocking the way to the stairs. I knew there was no point to complain anymore. What Mom said went.

Sure enough, placed on my bed was a nice red dress and matching red flats. There was a note, explaining it was from Effie, wishing me a happy birthday and reminding me to behave for my parents.

I slightly scoffed as I placed the note on my desk. My birthday wasn't for another few months. No doubt this was left over from last year. I forced myself into the dress, telling myself I was only doing this to please my parents. I crammed my feet into the shoes, reminding myself to write Effie back that my feet had grown a size since last year.

I stood in the mirror, brushing down my hair. It was a mess from surviving school and Haymitch's geese, but other than that, it looked fine. I ran my hand down my dress, smoothing it out. This was only for supper.

I exited my room, hearing everyone downstairs rushing to get things ready. "Katniss, I don't understand why we're forced to dress nice for Gale. He does know us, ya know?" Dad argued as Mom forced him into a nice shirt and tie.

"Because," Mom huffed as she fussed with his blonde hair. "I want him to see how much we have changed since the last time we met." She declared, nodding her head in satisfaction at her work.

"Seems a little extreme for someone you've trusted your life with." Dad replied, slightly shaking his head as he walked past her. I walked towards Mom, hoping this would calm her nerves.

"Well, don't you just look fabulous?" She smiled, reaching over to fix my dress so it was square on my body. I lightly chuckled, feeling her hands shift my dress. "Perfect." She nodded before walking off to tend to Rye, who was going to be the most trouble. The door opened then slammed shut.

I was wrong.

Haymitch was going to be the most trouble. He was dressed in the same shirt from the past two days that smelt like alcohol. "So when's our guest showing up?" He asked. He stopped, staring at Dad. "Wow, I can't believe she talked you into wearing that horrid shirt." He stated, picking at Dad's shirt as I followed behind him.

Mom sighed, rolling her gray eyes. "Haymitch, go home. No one asked you to show up." She grumbled, shoving him towards the door.

"On the contrary, sweetheart," he replied, holding up his hand to stop her. "Willow and Rye asked me to come."

"Haymitch, they're children." She argued.

"Wow, come on, Katniss. Have some love for your favorite mentor slash babysitter and let me sit down with the guy and have a few glasses of wine." He fired back, stumbling towards the dining room table, taking a seat.

"Haymitch, we're trying to impress him. Not show him how disgusting you can be." Mom spat, crossing her arms over her chest. Haymitch looked around, spotting me standing off to the side.

"And to think, your father fell head over heels for that." He stated, gesturing towards Mom. Behind me, I could hear Dad laughing. Mom cursed under her breath as she rushed to go find someone else to pick on.

Rye came and sat at the table, smiling at Haymitch. "Mom said she wants you to go home because you're going to make a mess of her lovely supper." He grinned, swinging his legs back and forth in his chair.

"Did she tell you to say that?" Haymitch asked, leaning across the table. Rye shook his head, his blonde curls swishing back and forth.

"No. She also had some bad words thrown in there," he explained. He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. "Maybe she was talking to Dad."

I walked over to the table, sitting beside Rye. I smiled at Haymitch, placing my hands on the smooth wood. I needed him, so I was glad he was just as stubborn as my parents. I knew he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

Someone knocked on the door, making me and Rye sit up straight. Dad walked towards the door, slightly tripping his prosthetic leg on the rug. He opened the door, giving me a view of the man I hated.

Gale.

I immediately vowed to myself to make this the worst supper he had ever had. He was going to regret ever coming back to 12. "Peeta, nice to see you again." Gale breathed.

"Gale." Dad replied, his voice hard. That's when I realized I would have help. It was now obvious Dad was against the man being in our home. This was going to be an interesting meal.


	8. Eight

**Chapter Eight**

"Please, come in." Dad stated, opening the door wider. I began to grind my teeth, trying to hold my tongue from snapping at the man. Just the sight of him nearly made me want to throw a fit. But I had to control myself.

"Gale!" Rye grinned, running from his spot to envelop our guest in his little arms. "I'm so happy you're here!" He added, tightly holding onto Gale's legs.

Gale ruffled his blonde curls, smiling at him. "I'm happy to be here too, bud," he lightly laughed. He glanced up at me, our eyes meeting. I hoped he could see the fire of hate burning inside of them. "Good evening, Willow." He smirked.

"Good evening, Mr. Hawthorne." I replied, hate dripping off of my lips. Tension began to thicken in the air as we glared at each other, neither one backing down. I could feel Haymitch's eyes staring at me, watching my every move.

Gale shook his head, chuckling as Rye peeled himself off. Gale stood taller, placing his hands on his hips. "Ya know, Willow, you can just call me Gale."

"I know." I fired back, my face growing more stern. It was like the world stopped to take a breath. I could almost hear Mom in the kitchen scolding my behave to her Gale. I stared into Gale's gray eyes, or as my mother calls them, Seam eyes.

Dad cleared his throat, causing my eyes to meet their carbon copy. I studied his face, quickly reading that what I did was definitely not okay. I glanced down at my place, my cheeks beginning to burn in shame.

"So nice to see you again, Gale. Last I heard, you were in District 2." Haymitch stated, saving me from this moment of embarrassment. I licked my lips, arguing with myself on how to act tonight. I figured if I was mean enough to him, he would go away, but now I realize that that won't work. Mom likes him or at least she did. I have to actually treat him like he's a guest.

I felt a hand land on my shoulder, making me slightly jump as I looked at my father's face. "Kitchen. Now." He softly declared under his voice. Quickly, I realized that there would be no arguing.

I nodded my head as I rose from my seat. Gale and Haymitch were talking up a storm while Rye stood beside them, admiring both of them. His gray eyes were bright as he laughed when Haymitch laughed. No one even noticed we left the room.

I followed behind Dad, keeping my head low. I already knew what was coming.

Scolding time.

"Willow, what are you thinking?" Mom scoffed, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at me. I shrugged my shoulders while I darted my eyes around the room, trying to find something to look at other than her face.

"I don't know. I wasn't." I replied, as I ran my hands over my snarly braid. I hoped no one in the dining room could hear us.

"Exactly. So start thinking about what comes out of your mouth and treat Gale with respect." She grumbled, handing me the stack of plates to set the table.

I groaned, rolling my eyes. I opened my mouth to argue, but Dad beat me to speaking. "Look, Willow," he began, his voice low. "I don't like the guy either, but everyone deserves a second chance, okay? Give Gale time to explain himself before you fire another shot at him." He reasoned, softly frowning as he led me towards the dining room.

"Fine," I sighed, giving in. "But only for Mom's sake." I quickly added, glaring at him as we got closer and closer to the dining room.

"For Mom's sake." He agreed as he grabbed the silverware, following me out. We set the table, making sure everything was in perfect order. Not that it really mattered anyways. My family was never the proper type and I assumed Gale wasn't either, considering he lived in 12 at one point in time.

Dad and I continued walking back and forth from the kitchen, each time bringing a new plate of food. Each time we passed each other, we sent a smile of encouragement. I hoped I could make it through tonight without making a mess of everything for Mom's sake.

Slowly, but surely, the table was covered in different types of food. I took my place at the table, sitting between Dad and Rye. Across the table, Gale sat between Mom and Haymitch.

Great.

Now I'd have to stare at him though dinner.

The table was quiet, no one really knowing what to say. I personally didn't want to speak, so this wasn't a problem for me. I'd rather listen to forks clink on plates than speak to Gale. "So, Gale, how have you been?" Dad began, starting off the conversation.

All eyes traveled to Gale, waiting for his response. He waited until he swallowed then wiped his mouth. "Pretty good. I've been promoted a couple of times over the years so the pay is nice."

"Scenery good?" Dad fired back, making Gale smile. I furrowed my eyebrows and curved my lips to the right.

"Scenery is beautiful, but it's nothing compared to 12." He smiled, his gray eyes brighting. Is this what Mom meant about Dad? Was this his way with words? His ability to start a conversation from nothing?

"I haven't been to 2 in a long time, but from what I remember, it is truly breathtaking," Dad agreed, his fork moving his food around on the plate. "Not as much open space through. Filled with buildings and such." He explained.

"Yeah, especially now that everyone has been gradually moving eastward from the Capital and into the Districts." Gale softly chuckled, his eyes going back to his own plate.

"People are moving out from the Capital?" Mom asked, slightly furrowing her eyebrows. Gale shifted in his seat, turning to face her.

"Sorta. Most of the areas damaged from the war are still being constructed and there's no where else for them to go but out into the districts." He explained. Mom nodded her head, looking back at her food.

It was silent for a while, the sound of forks tinkling on plates filled the space again. I would peer up at Gale, watching him. I just didn't know where to place this guy. Mom wanted to impress him, but Dad absolutely despised the guy. Why the conflicted feelings?

"So," Gale said, clearing his throat. "We've talked a lot about me, but I haven't heard how it's going for you guys."

"It's going well. Peeta has been painting and baking and I still hunt." Mom replied, softly smiling at Gale. Gale returned the smile, nodding at her.

"Yeah, we have a whole room filled with my paintings if you'd like to check them out later." Dad offered. I nearly gagged. Why would Dad show him something so precious? What if Gale ruins it with his grubby hands?

"A whole room full?"

"Yeah, well, Katniss won't let me get rid of any of them." Dad lightly chuckled, teasing Mom.

"I just don't see the point of throwing away something that you've worked so hard on is all," she quickly defended. "You've spent years on some of them. I think it's stupid to just toss it."

"Well, some of them are terrible." Dad chuckled, looking down at his plate. My father has also been humble, never taking credit for anything and never seeing his full potential.

"Better than I could do." She fired back. They grew silent as their eyes studied each other. This was a common occurrence at dinner. Their compliments come out harsh and demanding, like they're fighting. But anyone who knows them knows that this is just the way they are.

"So, Gale," Haymitch began, clearing his throat. "What suddenly made you want to come back?"

Gale paused, furrowing his eyebrows. Concentration was now present on his face, weaving in and out as he licked his lips. "I don't know." He confessed.

Mom turned and looked at him. Her face was contorted with anger and confusion. "What do you mean you don't know?" She spat, narrowing her eyebrows.

"Don't get so defensive, Catnip," he replied, his voice soft. "I got a letter asking me to come back and something inside of me told me to do it."

We all looked down at our plates. Did he think one of us sent it? Was he hoping we wanted him back?

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Rye smiled, able to fix the tension, a trait he luckily received from Dad. "I like you."

"Thanks, bud. I like you too." Gale softly smiled, nodding at Rye.

The rest of dinner we spent in silence. No one felt the need to carry on a risky conversation anymore. People's feelings were in different places and we all knew this. Dad and I cleared the table as Haymitch left for his house with a glass of wine.

"Did I do okay?" I asked, placing the dishes in the sink. Dad hovered behind me, reaching over to place his armload in the sink.

"You did perfect," He breathed. He placed a kiss on the top of my head and ran his hand down my shoulder. "Get ready for bed. I'm sure your mother and Gale have lots to talk about."

"Okay." I softly replied. I rushed up the stairs, hoping to avoid anymore contact with Gale. I quickly prepared for bed, listening to Rye singing to himself as he brushed his teeth in the bathroom.

Dad's voice echoed in the hallway, leading Rye to his bedroom. That left me with about fifteen minutes to myself. Dad was putting us to bed, which meant I would get a story until I feel asleep. I prayed that Rye would be full of energy tonight.

I knelt down beside the vent, leaning my ear against the cold metal. "So, when were you going to tell me about the kids?" Gale asked.

I narrowed my eyebrows, surprised that they were already taking jabs at each other.

"I didn't know I had to update you on my life." Mom said, anger clear in her voice.

"I thought you never wanted children. What changed?" He continued.

"Peeta wanted them."

"So suddenly just because your star-crossed lover wants children you'll give me to him? That doesn't sound like the girl I knew."

"In case you've gone blind, I'm obviously not the same girl I was over twenty years ago. I'm not the girl who snuck under the fence in hopes to find game to feed to my family. I'm not the girl who volunteered for her sister at the reaping," she spat, her voice growing louder. "No, Gale. I'm the girl who survived the Hunger Games! I'm the girl who survived the war and watched everyone she loved slip through fingers dead!"

Silence was Gale's answer.

I kept my ear to the vent, wondering if he had left, but soon I heard his voice. "Doesn't he scare you?" Gale asked, his voice growing hard.

"Who?" Mom huffed.

"Peeta. Didn't that ever cross your mind? You were attacked by him in Thirteen. You watched him push one of our soldiers into a barb wire trap of death." Gale argued. "Doesn't it scare you that he'll flip on the children one day? He's not safe! He'll never be safe!"

I gasped, covering my mouth. What was he talking about? What was this secret I was never told?

"Peeta loves those children more than you ever could. He would never lay a hand on them! I've watched him love and care for his children for the past thirteen years!" Mom's voice cracked. "He'll never be cured, but he doesn't live in the past like you, Gale. He doesn't fuel his heart with hate!"

My door slowly creaked open. Quickly, I stood up and rushed to my bed. I tucked myself under the covers, seeing my father's face brighten at the sight of me. "Hey, Peanut."

"Hi, Dad." I smiled. He shut the door behind him, sitting down on the floor beside my bed. I studied his blue eyes, unable to see the monster Gale described. Maybe the monster Gale was talking about was himself or a dream.

"How about I tell you a story?" Dad stated, smoothing down my blanket. "You know I'm not a good singer like your mother." He chuckled.

Suddenly, my stomach began to churn. As I looked into his eyes, I had to spill my secrets. I had to tell him. "Dad."

"Yeah?"

"I have to tell you something," I shakily breathed. "You have to promise not to tell Mom." I added.

He swallowed, thinking it through. "I'll keep your secret." He agreed.

"I know about Rue," I declared. He furrowed his eyebrows, studying my face in the dim light. "We learned about her during school."

I looked down, gripping the blanket in my hands. "I had to watch the video," I explained. "I watched Rue get stabbed and then I saw Mom shoot the attacker."

I began to sob, my hiccups getting trapped in my throat. "Then I watched Mom sing her to sleep with the Valley Song. It was awful." I cried. He kissed my forehead, brushing my locks out of my eyes.

"I know. I know it is," he cooed. "But the woman who shot that arrow was not your mother. The woman who sang sweet, little Rue to sleep was your mother. Your mother and I have done things we don't like to think about. But that doesn't change who we really are."

I nodded my head. "Don't let those images change your view of your mother." He commanded.

"I won't." I promised.

He smiled, kissing my forehead again. "That's my Willow," he grinned. "How about that story?" He asked.

I nodded my head and closed my tired eyes. I drifted to sleep with sweet images of pink skies and hummingbirds buzzing in my mind. I could feel the gentle breeze against my cheeks and the grass underneath me. This was what my mother meant. Not only could Dad paint a picture for your eyes, but he could also paint one inside your mind.


	9. Nine

**Chapter Nine**

"We're leaving." Mom declared.

"What?" Dad, Haymitch, and I exclaimed, staring at her in confusion.

"Yup. We're leaving today. Train arrives in an hour." She explained, placing her hands on her hips. She meant business.

"Hooray! Where are we going?" Rye cheered, clapping his hands as he stared up at her in awe. Mom smiled at him, glad he was excited for this surprise trip.

"We're going to the Capital." She grinned, making Rye cheer even louder. Rye and I had been on the train once in our lives, and that was to meet my grandmother. Rye was only a baby and I hardly remember it.

"Since when?" Dad asked, furrowing his eyebrows at her.

"Since now." She replied.

"Sweetheart," Haymitch began, grabbing onto Mom's shoulders. "See, the beauty about the train is that it gives us everything we need from the Capital, like my liquor for example. I don't have to go there to get it."

"We aren't going there for anything." She fired back, her gray eyes narrowing at him as she shrugged off his hands.

"Then what are we doing?" I joined in, just as confused as the rest of my family.

Mom turned and smiled at me, her gray eyes lighting up. "Don't you want to meet your Aunt Effie?" She asked. Rye squealed, jumping out of his chair.

"Can we really?" He chirped, grabbing onto her hands.

"Yes, my little tadpole." She grinned, brushing his messy hair from his gray eyes and planting a kiss on his nose. He giggled, closing his eyes in joy. I stood up from the table, my eyes quickly darting to hers.

"Does this mean no school for the rest of the week?" I asked. Because if it meant no school, I was definitely in. Heck, I would run to the Capital and back if it meant no school for even a day.

"No school. It'll be a family vacation." Mom smiled, running her fingers through Rye's blonde curls as he tightly hugged her leg, a grin plaster on his chubby face.

"I'll go pack right now!" I cheered, rushing up the stairs. I quickly threw everything I thought I would need into my bag. Thank god for this trip! Hopefully, we won't be back in time for our stupid rebellion project. Then I won't have to force one of my family members to speak of their nightmares.

I hooked my bag over my shoulder, pausing at the stairs, listening to the adults speaking in low voices. That meant there was a secret I wasn't supposed to know. "Katniss, why are we doing this?" Dad asked.

"I want to see Effie. I haven't seen her since the wedding." Mom replied. There was a pause of silence.

"Katniss, if this trip is because of Gale, I'm sure I can talk him into leaving. I'll just-"

"No, Peeta. This has nothing to do with Gale," Mom fired back. She took a deep breath, thinking her words through. "I want to see Effie and what they've done with the Capital."

"You haven't been there since your trial. Are you sure you want to risk going back?" Dad replied. Her trial?

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Peeta. Besides, I'll have you and the children with me." She answered. I heard her kiss him then walk off towards her room. I knew it was safe to head downstairs now.

I hopped down the stairs, Rye trailing behind me. Dad turned around, smiling at us. "Ready to go?" He asked, eyeing our bags.

"Uh-huh!" Rye exclaimed as I nodded my head. "We get to finally see Aunt Effie!"

Dad lightly chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's she like?" I asked, softly smiling at him. His lips slightly curled up, his blue eyes brighting.

"She's a little weird," he said. "Last time I saw her, she had huge, pink hair and eyelashes that went up to her forehead." He describing, using his hands to illustrate what it looked like.

"Wow! I wish I had hair like that!" Rye awed, his jaw dropping.

Dad chuckled, shrugging his shoulder. "It's a wig, squirt."

"Still. That would be so cool." He replied, a grin now plastered on his face. But my question was never answered.

"But what's her personality like? She's not like Gale, right?" I asked, studying Dad's face. He smiled, leaning down to meet my face.

"She's nothing like Gale," he softly smiled. "She's the complete opposite."

I grinned. This was the best news I could ever receive. Not only would I be getting miles away from Gale, but I would get to meet Aunt Effie, who was nothing like Gale. "Perfect." I breathed.

Dad grinned, planting a kiss on my forehead. "You'll love her." He added before he headed back to help Mom pack.

"I don't understand why you hate Gale so much." Rye grumbled, place his bag on the ground. I narrowed my blue eyes at him. Was he really about to start this fight with me?

"I don't understand why you like him so much." I fired back, crossing my arms over my chest. Rye glared me, anger growing on his face.

"Gale is one of the nicest people I know," he began. "He's always there for me when I need him. You're just jealous that he likes me better than you."

I scoffed, tossing back my head. "Please, I wish Gale would leave me alone. Jealousy has nothing to do with my hated for him." I slightly smirked, leaning in towards Rye's face. I had to admit, that was a good comeback for a six year old.

"Then why do you hate him?" He asked. I blinked, slightly stunned by his question. I had no answer. There was just a certain vibe I got from him. Something about the way Mom had never talked about him. How Dad tried to make a normal conversation at the table. They never did that for their long time friends.

"I'm not going to lie," I said, backing up from his face. "I don't honestly know." I confessed.

Rye's gray eyes studied my face. They landed on my eyes, checking to see if I was lying. "Maybe you should give him a chance. He is my friend after all." He said. He turned on his heels, marching towards my parents room.

I watched him the corner of eyes, questions began to form. Rye would never think to ask me that. He's never questioned my position on people. And the responses he fired at me were too well thought out for a six year old.

That could only mean one thing.

"Rye, Willow!" Mom called out. "Go make sure Haymitch is ready to go."

Rye come running out of their room, zooming past me. I chased after him, pounding my feet against the now hard ground. The first frost was bound to happen any day now. The days were getting shorter and colder. Everything that once held life was now bare and begging for some color.

I passed Rye, a smile breaking out onto my face as I reached the door before him. I panted, grinned down at him. "No fair. You're older." He countered, furrowing his gray eyes at me.

I shrugged my shoulder, pounding on the door. "You got a head start."

Before Rye could argue, Haymitch opened the door, dragging one of his suitcases. "I think someone needs to dump a bucket of ice water on your mother. Maybe she'd see how idiotic this idea is then." He grumbled.

Rye giggled. "I'll do it!"

Haymitch slightly smiled, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. "You're crazy, squirt."

"Mom just wanted us to check on you and make sure you were coming." I explained as he dragged his suitcase outside. He slammed the door shut. Rye and I chased after him as he walked towards our house.

"Aren't you going to lock your door?" Rye asked, his blonde curls slightly brushed back from the wind. I had to admit, it was chilly and I should have grabbed my jacket. Instinctively, my hands began to rub up and down on my arms.

"Nothing to steal." Haymitch answered, brushing back his dark hair out of his gray eyes. The Seam look. Gale had it. Mom had it. Haymitch had it. A few families around here had it too. The gray eyes and dark locks. Rye and I are a rarity. A mix of coal miner and a merchant. Dad was a merchant, obvious from his blue eyes and blonde hair, though that wasn't always the case. Prim, my aunt, had a merchant look but was from the Seam.

"What about money? People could steal that." Rye countered. Haymitch shrugged his shoulder, continuing on the sidewalk to our house.

"They can have it."

We entered the house, our bags piled near the door. Mom and Dad were finishing up, making sure everything was in place before grabbing their bags. "Grab your stuff. The train will arrive any second now." Mom said, exiting the house.

We followed behind her as Dad locked the door. We all followed behind Mom, who lead with determination in every step. I wasn't sure exactly why we were doing this. She told Dad it was because she wanted to see Effie, but I didn't really believe it.

Most people from District 12 were now gathering at the station. The train comes about once a month to bring supplies not available here. I've always liked delivery day. Somedays, they bring cool electronics from District 3 or a fancy clothes from District 8. My classmates and I usually get a chance to play with them before they're delivered to the stores. Mom and Dad hardly buy anything like that unless it's for a special occasion, like a birthday.

I felt the eyes watching us. I felt out of place. Most people don't travel. I suppose it makes sense though. They weren't allowed to travel from district to district years ago, so it seems unnatural and strange. "Where ya headed, Katniss?"

I look up, watching Greasy Sae part the sea of people to reach Mom. Greasy Sae is one of the few friends Mom has. She's always been kind and helpful to our family, cooking for us when my parents were ill or watching us while they were out.

Mom smiled, brushing back her hair. "We're going to go visit Effie in the Capital. Don't worry, we'll be back soon." Mom assured. Greasy Sae grinned, patting Mom's cheek.

"Have a good time. I'll watch over the house for you." She promised before she got lost in the crowd. The loud train whistle made Rye cover his ears and pinch his eyes shut. The black train pulled into the station, making my heart beat out of control.

I was nervous. I was anxious. What would I see on this trip? What were we actually doing? I blindly followed my family into the train. It was very fancy to say the least. Every compartment seemed like it was from a place I had never seen. The decorations were nothing like anything had seen before and the bedrooms were bigger than I imagined for a little train.

"Willow, Rye. You'll share this room." Dad explained, opening a door for us. There were two beds on opposite sides of the room. I quickly took the one on the right as Rye rushed for the one on the left.

"This place is so cool!" Rye chirped, jumping up and down. Dad smiled at him, watching Rye drop his bag and race around the room. I sat down on my bed, thoughts forming in my head. I couldn't help but run my hands up and down on the silk sheets. They were so smooth and comforting. Even though it was almost noon, I wanted to go to bed.

"Just wait until you try the food," Dad grinned. That caught our attention. Dad nodded his head out the door. "Follow me."

Quickly, we followed Dad around the train. Mom was setting up her stuff and Haymitch was already at the table drinking his liquor. At least he got the one thing he wanted. I couldn't help but wonder how they had this place memorized. They all knew their way around this crazy train, leading us to new and exciting places.

I glanced out the window, seeing the landscape zoom past us. It was hard to get a good look at anything. I pressed my hand against the glass, feeling the coolness from the outside. Dad stood over my shoulder, admiring the view too. "It's crazy, huh?"

I nodded my head, never taking my eyes off of the window. "This is nothing like I imagined it." I breathed.

"Trust me, you'll be in for a surprise when we reach the Capital. This is only a small fraction of what goes on there." He explained, running his fingers over my braids. I licked my lips. I was ready for anything at this point. After all, I had my family with me. What was the worst that could happen?


	10. Ten

**Chapter Ten**

I bolted up, gasping for air. I've never heard a scream so loud and terrified in my life. I placed my hand against my chest, feeling my heart racing out of control. I squinted my eyes, able to see Rye's chest gently floating up and down in the dark. How did he not hear that?

I slipped out of my bed, my bare feet landing on the cool carpet. I quietly walked to the door, opening it to peer out into the hallway. I stuck my head out, looking back and forth. Carefully, I walked towards my parents' room.

Before I could turn the knob, I heard Dad's voice. Did he wake up from the scream too? I leaned my ear against the door, trying to hear what he was saying. "Katniss, it's alright. I'm right here. We're not going back to the Games. Everything's okay."

I backed up. I should have that scream memorized by now. I hear Mom's screams at least once a week. But it's never been so loud, so full of fear. I slowly back away, feeling like I've invaded her privacy. Like I shouldn't know what nightmare she had. I began to shiver, my warmth suddenly leaving me.

"Out for a nightly walk, sweetheart?"

I jumped, turning around to see Haymitch. His gray eyes were studying me and I probably looked like a child caught stealing a cookie from the jar. I began to stutter, trying to think of an excuse. "I just wanted a drink of water."

He slightly scoffed, the corner of his mouth curling upward. "Follow me."

I shuttered, rubbing my hands up and down my arms as I followed Haymitch through the train. This was the first time I noticed how much we were wobbling back and forth. A few times I had to catch myself to stop from falling over.

Eventually, he led me to the kitchen. He poured me a glass of water. Before I could even think, I tossed it back as fast as I could. We both knew that I wasn't awake for a cool drink of water.

I handed him back the empty glass, my small hand brushing against his calloused one. "So, you were thirsty?" He asked, placing the glass in the sink. I hummed, nodding my head. "You don't need to lie to me, Willow. I'm not going to yell at you for waking up from your mother's nightmares. I'm sure this isn't the first time."

I lowered my head, feeling his eyes studying me. "I know. It's just," I stuttered, trying to think of the words. "I just feel like I'm invading her privacy. It's her nightmares, not mine. And I've never heard her scream like that before. What do you think it was?"

He paused, brushing my dark locks from my blue eyes. His expression was soft, a face I've only seen a few times. "The Games mess with everyone, Willow," he began. "I've only been in one. Your mother and father have been through two Games and a rebellion. It's best not to know what goes through her head on this train."

My eyes met his gray ones. I frowned. "That's why you guys know this train so well. It's the victor train. You've had to ride it many times before. To the Games and to the Districts." I replied.

"You should head back to bed." He softly spoke, placing his hand on my shoulder. Haymitch has never been one for comfort like Dad, but tonight he was probably the best person to confide in.

He lead me to my room and tucked me into bed. "Goodnight, Uncle Haymitch." I whispered as he brushed my locks from my eyes.

"Good night, sweet pea." He replied.

xxx

"'Low! 'Low!" Rye exclaimed, shaking me awake. "Wake up! Wake up!"

I groaned, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. "What do you want?" I yawned. I stretched, making some of my bones crack in the process. I hardly got any sleep last night, but I couldn't show it. Mom doesn't need to know she woke me up.

"We're just arriving in District 7," he explained, his gray eyes lighting up. "Mom and Dad want you to get ready since we'll be having breakfast with one of their close friends."

I nodded my head as he rushed out of the room, giving me privacy. A close friend? I didn't know they knew anyone from District 7. Of course, I don't know a lot of things. You would think over the years I would at least know most my parents' backstory, but I'm too chicken to even ask.

I quickly yanked on a pair of overalls and a shirt. I brushed my hair, leaving it in its natural wave for Mom to braid. I felt exhausted and this was only our first day on vacation. I could only hope that Mom wouldn't have anymore nightmares.

"Nice to see you up and at 'em." Dad teased, pinching my cheeks. I softly giggled, walking to Mom. She smiled, turning me around. Her fingers quickly began the memorized process.

"Did you sleep well, peanut?"

"Yes, except it was a little hard to fall asleep at first. It was weird being so far away from home." I replied, trying to cover my story. I hoped it was convincing enough.

"Yeah, it's a little strange at first," she agreed. I felt her tie off the end of hair to make sure it wouldn't fall apart. She turned me around, placing a soft kiss on my temple, causing a grin to grow on my face. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it soon."

Before I knew it, we were in a whole new world. Trees grew taller than I could ever imagine. Plus they were all different shapes and sizes. I recognized a few from home, but most were unfamiliar. "Did we shrink?" Rye asked from beside me.

"No, the trees are just super tall here," I explained, resting my hand on the window. "District 7 helps out with our lumber. Ya know, so we can have paper and stuff."

"Oh. What does coal help the other districts with?" He added, furrowing his eyebrows at me. I softly smiled, genuinely happy that he was filled with this curiosity. Rye had learned a lot from being at school for only a few months. It nice to finally have some intelligent conversations with him.

"Well, coal helps with heating so people don't get cold." I answered. He awed, looking back out the window. He leaned his head against my shoulder as we watched more and more trees crowd our train. The sun was now slivering over the horizon, causing a light orange to streak on the sky.

The train pulled to slow stop and we exited, leaving our bags and such on board. The train had to refuel so it would be a few hours, so we had plenty of time to meet our parents' close friend.

My eyes darted around the place, unable to process how different it was. It smelt like the forest and gave me a comforting feeling. Sorta like a home away from home feeling. Only I knew we were miles away from the coal covered District 12.

"Well, well, well," a woman spoke up, marching towards us. Her dark locks were tied up in a tight ponytail and everything about her intimidated me. "Aren't these babies just adorable?" She declared as she squeezed my cheeks. Those words coming out of anyone else's mouth would have sounded like a compliment, but they sounded threatening from her.

"It's nice to see you again, Johanna." Dad smiled, pulling her into a hug. Johanna. The name was familiar. I've never heard it spoken at our house. Only at school. As my eyes quickly studied her face, I was able to recognize the former victor. She was one of few still alive.

"Gosh, this one has your eyes, Peeta," she stated, grabbing at my cheeks again, acting like I was some pet. Her brown eyes traveled over my face, almost as if she was trying to read my thoughts. "And even has Katniss's nose. I'm hoping she has your rebellious spirit." She added, now talking to Mom.

"Trust me, Willow has too much of that." Haymitch spoke up as Johanna moved onto Rye. Rye giggled as she poked his chubby cheeks and ran her grubby fingers through his curly blonde locks.

"Katniss's eyes and Peeta's hair. Gee, what a blessing," She said, standing up and smiling down at Rye, who was giggling like crazy. He thought she was hilarious. "I'm surprised these two haven't been broadcasted all over the country. They're cuter than a pair of buttons."

"We prefer to leave the cameras out of our lives." Mom replied.

Johanna shrugged her shoulder as she crossed her arms across her chest. "Had enough of the victor's life, huh?" She asked. It quiet for a few seconds before she spoke again. "Me too. I don't let those cameras anywhere near me. They get an axe to the lens before they even know what's coming."

Mom chuckled, nodding her head at Johanna. Suddenly, all I could picture was Mom shooting an arrow into the lens of a camera that even seemed to be pointed anywhere near us.

"Well, who's hungry?" Johanna asked.

"Me! Me! I'm starving!" Rye jumped up and down, waving his hand like crazy.

"Alright, goof, let's go eat something." She replied, turning on her heels. Johanna seemed intense, but I actually didn't mind her. She was sorta funny. In an intimidating sorta way.

We were all seated around a table on her back deck. The view was perfect. The sun was now high in the sky, making the green grass shimmer with the fresh dew. The dark trees loomed over us, casting cool shades, so we sat in the sunlight. The table was made out of glass. It was weird to be able to see my legs when I looked down at my plate.

Placed on the table was a bowl full of freshly cut fruit. It was overflowing with apples, oranges, strawberries, you name it. Johanna called it a fruit salad, though I didn't understand how it apparently mimicked the salads at home, which are just different types of plants.

As the main meal, we were given grilled sausage meat and over-easy eggs. It was really delicious to be honest. We all had our choice of toast. Mom, Haymitch, and I went simple, just having sourdough. Rye, well, it was fairly obvious that he was going to choose rye bread. Dad went for a kind that I had never even heard of before. When it was placed at the table, I quickly noticed the green specks sprinkled in it.

"What's in that?" Rye asked, pointing at Dad's toast. Dad grinned, holding it, obviously happy that we asked.

"See, this is seaweed," he began. Immediately, Rye and I scrunched up our nose. Everyone laughed at us as Dad continued. "Each district has a special type of bread. This is the bread from District 4."

"Because District 4 is by the ocean!" Rye cheered, glad he figured it out by himself. "And seaweed is in the ocean!"

"Exactly!" Dad grinned, his blue eyes sparkled at Rye.

Eventually, the meal had quieted down, most of us stuffed with food. "So, I bet you two are the most popular kids at school." Johanna stated, setting down her orange juice. Everyone nearly choked, surprised by her statement.

"Willow doesn't even come close." Haymitch chuckled, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Ouch.

I'm not saying it isn't true, but, still.

Ouch.

"Why not? I'm sure everyone wants to be friends with Katniss and Peeta's kid," Johanna smirked, her eyes meeting mine. "Or friends with a child of any victor, really." She added.

"Willow isn't exactly the warmest person in District 12." Mom replied, trying not to hurt my feelings. Well, she was right. I don't really have many friends.

"That's alright. I don't have any friends, either. We loners gotta stick together, right?" She asked, her smile spreading to her face.

I returned it, nodding at her. "Right."

Everyone began to clear the table. Somehow, I was left alone with Johanna. Her nails dug into my skin as she tightly gripped my wrist. I thought I was going to drop my plate from how much pressure she applied. "I'm glad to see you sticking up for yourself."

"What?" I replied.

"I don't want to hear that other kids have been pushing you around, Willow," she explained, slightly shrugging her shoulder. "And if they suddenly do, I have a phone. I'm not afraid to come over to 12 to scare the hell out of them."

"Okay."

"No, you're supposed to say, 'Thanks, Johanna. That really means a lot to me.'" She grinned.

I smiled, able to detect her humor. "Thanks, Johanna. That really means a lot to me." I repeated with a small giggle at the end.

"You learn fast for being Katniss's kid." She teased, ruffling my hair, before we headed back inside.


	11. Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

It was late afternoon when we arrived in District 4. I wasn't exactly sure why we were visiting this District, but I wasn't going to question it. I didn't want to seem like I was badgering them or annoying them. "Mom, are we almost there?" Rye whined, tossing back his head.

"Just about." Mom answered before going back to her conversation with Dad and Haymitch on the couch across the room. Looking at the way they were speaking, I knew I wouldn't be allowed to hear. They were crouched and speaking in low, hushed voices. Yup, definitely not for my ears.

"Hey, I can see the ocean." Rye perked up, his gray eyes widening at the sight. I turned around, looking over my shoulder.

Wow.

The dazzling water seemed to go on for forever. There was no land behind the water. Only water. For miles and miles. Each wave sparkled from the sunlight, crashing against each other to form brighter lights.

I squinted my blue eyes, trying to watch the waves pound against the shore. "It's so bright." I said, speaking my mind.

"Yeah, it hurts my eyes." Rye agreed. I turned around, watching him rub his eyes. He blinked them as he opened them again, meeting my eyes. I smiled, letting out a soft chuckle.

He giggled back, looking down at the placemat. We were forced to sit at the table. Well, I wouldn't say forced. It was either the table or our room. I really didn't want to go back there. "Do you think we'll get to play in the water?" He asked, his fingers tracing the lines in the table.

I shrugged my shoulder. "Maybe. We are spending the night with Grandma." I answered.

"I've never met Grandma," he said, his face contorting. He looked up, his gray eyes locking with my blue ones. "What's she like?"

"I actually don't know," I replied, lowering the left side of my face. "I was really little the last time I saw her."

"Were you my age?" He asked.

"About," I nodded. "Maybe a little older. You were a baby."

"Does she think I'm still a baby?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "No. She knows you're not a baby."

He grinned, looking back down at the table. "Good. Because she might have been expecting a little baby and would have got me a crib to sleep in. That would be very uncomfortable."

I laughed again, tossing back my head. "She won't make you sleep in a crib," I assured. "Or eat baby food." I quickly added. He tossed back his head, his giggles echoing around the room.

Mom and Dad perked up, glancing at us to see what we were doing. "What do you two think you're doing?" Dad asked, playfulness present in his smile.

"Willow said Grandma was going to feed me baby food!" Rye laughed, pointing at me. My jaw dropped as I looked at Dad, shaking my head.

"I did not!" I defended, slightly laughing. "He asked if Grandma thought he would be a baby and I told him she doesn't!" I explained. Dad stood up, walking towards us.

He quickly scooped up Rye, making him laugh louder. "Grandma doesn't think you're a baby," Dad chuckled, gently pinching Rye's sides. "But your Mom does!"

Mom grinned, standing up to come Dad's side. She leaned over his shoulder, looking down at Rye. "You're my baby boy!" She cheered, covering his face with kisses.

He giggled up a storm, slightly kicking his legs. Then he paused, looking over at me with a smile on his face. "What about Willow? Is she a baby?"

"My Willow?" Mom asked, playfulness in her tone. She strode towards me as Rye laughed. She placed her hands on my shoulders, looking at Rye. "You think she's a baby?"

He laughed, nodding his head. Mom put her face near mine, her gray eyes looking into my blue ones. "Of course she's a baby! She's my baby girl!" Mom cheered, placing kisses on my face. I giggled, pushing her away. "Right, Peeta? Isn't she our little girl?"

Dad came to her aid, covering me with kisses as well. I laughed, trying to push them away, but they were too powerful. It felt like a millions kisses were being targeted on my face as Rye laughed in the background.

I opened my eyes as Dad rubbed his nose against mine. "She's our little peanut." He teased. I giggled, hearing my childhood nickname.

Slowly, the train came to stop as the kisses did. Haymitch rose from the couch as we packed a few items, the things we'd need to sleep at Grandma's. We all crowded around the door. I watched as Mom slipped her hand into Dad's, giving him a small squeeze.

"Haymitch, have you met my grandma?" Rye asked as the doors opened. Haymitch nodded, brushing his dark locks out of his eyes.

"Yes, I met her a long time ago." He briefly replied. Rye oohed, looking forward. Suddenly, I felt a wave of nervousness. Something felt off. I felt anxious.

Quickly, I slipped my hand into Uncle Haymitch's. I didn't want to be alone. I felt him look down at it, but he didn't say anything or let go. He must have realized that I needed support.

I glanced over at Rye, whose hand was also in Haymitch's. This must be a sight. Haymitch isn't known for his kindness or gentleness. If anything, you would think he would be cussing us out and shoving our hands away.

Maybe it's just because he's our family. Maybe it's because he secretly loves us on the inside. Or maybe it's just because he's drunk and needs support to walk. I did see him drinking a few glasses of alcohol before we got off.

I shook my head, clearing it from those thoughts. Of course Haymitch loves us. Otherwise he wouldn't put up with us. He wouldn't have helped me last night on the train and he definitely wouldn't have agreed to come on this trip if he didn't love us. There's no doubt that he love us.

As we walked further into the crowd, our group of three behind Mom and Dad, I heard a soft voice gasp. I tilted my head, trying to get a glance at whoever met us here. Arms wrapped around Mom and tears were pouring down her cheek.

Grandma.

"I'm so happy to see you again, Katniss." She croaked, laying her head against Mom. Mom didn't speak, but she kept her arms wrapped tight around her. Dad watched on the side, a sad smile on his face.

"Is that Grandma, Uncle Haymitch?" Rye whispered. Haymitch nodded his head, but didn't speak. He just stood there, taking in the moment. Was it like this the last time too? Haymitch taking care of us while Mom comforted Grandma?

They let go, their arms lingering on each other. Grandma brushed her graying hair from her face and her blue eyes met mine. "Oh, Willow. Look how you've grown." She cooed, walking towards me.

Her soft hands gently brushed my dark locks from my face. Her quiet eyes studied me, taking in every detail. Slowly, she leaned forward, placing a kiss on my nose. It wasn't like the kisses on the train just moments before. Her kiss was so soft that it reminded me of a butterfly landing on my nose. "You're just as beautiful as your mother." She grinned.

Before I could thank her, she wandered off to Rye. She kneeled down in front of him, cooing as she told him how big he had grown since the last time she held him. Of course, Rye giggled and explained he was no longer a baby.

Typical Rye.

"Well, should we drop off your things then head to the restaurant? I told Annie we'd meet her there." Grandma smiled, standing up and patting down her skirt.

xxx

"This is a restaurant?" Rye asked, his head scanning the quiet room. District 12 is a little behind on the new Capital wave coming in. New ideas and social developments have been making their way into the districts, hitting the most popular places first.

District 12 is far away and still being rebuilt from the rebellion. It might take decades before the Capital craze hits us. Maybe not even that. We're lucky enough that the train can come in and out without any problems. After all, the bombing took most of District 12 nearly 25 years ago.

Rye and I were seated at the end of table. I was beside Dad and he was by Mom. Haymitch sat next to Dad and Grandma across from them. There were two chair left. I knew one was for Annie, but the other was a mystery.

I smoothed down my dress and tucked my newly braided hair behind my ears. Grandma tried explaining the concept of a restaurant before we came, but I only slightly understand what she was trying to explain.

Basically, you're supposed to look nice. You're supposed to wear your cleanest dress and make yourself presentable to the public. People make any food you ask for on their menu and you sit and let them take care of you.

I thought it was a silly idea. Why would someone have millions of different options for someone to ask for? How do you even know how to cook every item? And why do we need to look nice? We're the guests. We should get to dress as we please. But, my inner ideas tell me it's just the Capital way. And there's no way I can change it, no matter how bad I want to.

"Hello, Katniss. Good evening, Peeta," A dark haired woman greeted, giving a slight wave to Mom and Dad. She continued to say hellos to everyone, but paused when she saw us. "You must be Peeta's and Katniss's children."

Rye and I nodded our heads as Mom and introduced us. The woman smiled, nodding at us. "Nice to meet you two. My name is Annie. I'm a close friend to your parents." She briefly explained.

We awed, giving her a soft smile. I knew she was a friend, but Rye obviously didn't, because I could tell that she just answered a million of his questions with one statement.

Suddenly, a tall, muscular man rushed to the table. He fixed his tied and swiped his bronze locks from his sea green eyes. "Good evening." He grinned, waving at us.

Everyone waved back. I had no idea who he was and I knew for a fact that Rye didn't. The man looked familiar. Was he possibly a former victor? A friend of Mom and Dad's? Maybe Haymitch's old friend?

The adults started making small talk, smiles beginning to grow. Rye and I on the other hand, well, we were nearly bored out of minds. There was only so much to do at a restaurant.

Before I could think, the strange man knelt down beside me and Rye. "Hello," he softly spoke, gathering our attention. My blue eyes locked with his green ones, entranced with the brilliant color. We didn't have eyes like that in 12. "You two are probably wondering who I am."

"Yeah. I was wondering who you were, but Mom says it's rude to ask." Rye answered. The man chuckled, nodding his head.

"Well, she's right," he replied, smiling. "My name is Fredrick." He answered, placing his hands on the table. "I'm a child of former victors too." He added.

Our jaws dropped. He has victors as parents too?! This must be some crazy coincidence. I thought for sure Rye and I were the only ones. Well, at school they act like we're the only ones.

"So you know what it's like?" I softly asked. "Everyone expecting you to do great things." I briefly added.

He grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth. "I know exactly how that feels," he nodded, his bronze hair shimmering in the dim lights. "It's not all sunshine and rainbows, is it?"

I shook my head, earning a laugh from him. He glanced at the adults, then back at us. "I just wanted to tell you two who I am and if you ever need any advice on how to handle the pressure of being the child of two victors, I'm always here." He explained, placing a phone number on the table.

He stood up, then walked back to his spot at the other end of the table. Gently, I picked up the card, feeling it between my fingers. Quickly, I memorized the number as Rye begged to get a look.

I handed the card off then looked back down at Fredrick. As if the light bulb turned on in my head, I realized who his parents were.

Annie and Finnick Odiar.

 **Author's note: Updates may take a little while. I was just transferring my book from Wattpad onto here, so that's why I was able to update eleven chapters in nearly three days. I work on this book regularly, so if you don't see an update in the next couple of days (let's be honest, weeks or months) I have not ran away. Don't be afr** **aid to drop me a line to remind me in a couple of weeks to work on this book or if you just want to chat. Thanks for all of the fabulous comments I have already received! They have definitely encouraged my process more and they never fail to put a smile on my face! :) I love hearing your opinions so don't be afraid to leave constructive comments!**


	12. Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

"Oh, Katniss. I want to show you the new hospital." Grandma spoke, resting her hand on Mom's. Rye and I were in the living room. He was playing with a few new toys Grandma had bought to keep us entertained. And me, well, I listening to their conversation.

"Mom, I don't know," Mom spoke, her voice slightly wavering. "I don't like seeing dying people and I don't know what to do with the kids. They'll be bored out of their minds. They need to run and play."

"Don't worry, I'm not taking you to see anyone," Grandma quickly replied. "I just want to give you a tour. There are some additions to the place that I want you to see."

"I think we could get Haymitch to watch the kids. It'll be okay." Dad added.

"Haymitch is still passed out and it's nearly 10:30," Mom argued. "I'm not going to be the one to wake him. I've had a knife slashed my way one too many times already."

"Annie could watch the kids," Grandma answered. "She's gotten better since the rebellion. Having Fredrick helped the most, since he's just like his father in most ways."

There was a pause, the only sound being Rye playing with his trucks on the floor, crashing them together. "Alright. I'll get the kids ready." Mom agreed.

Quickly, I grabbed one of Rye's trucks. A sound of protest began to come from him as Mom appeared. "Go get ready. Grandma wants to give us a tour." She said.

"A tour? Of what?" Rye asked, brushing his blonde curls from his face. Mom bent down, picking him up to set him on his feet.

"We need to give you a haircut," she spoke, trying to calm his hair. Then she looked back down at his face. "We're going to see something at the new hospital."

"The hospital? But I'm not sick." He argued, making Mom lightly laugh.

"I know, Rye. We'll only be there for a little bit," She smiled. "Now go get dressed. It's going to be a long day today."

Rye and I rushed to our separate rooms. Grandma had plenty of space in her house. Mom said it's because she trains new nurses for District Four, but I haven't seen any nurses here at all. Did they go home for the weekend too?

I jumped into a pair of ripped blue jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. This was my favorite outfit. It was obvious from how torn the knees were on the jeans and the light stains on the green shirt. Mom quickly braided my hair into two braids then planted a kiss on my cheek.

I wandered into the kitchen, lingering around, waiting for everyone else to get ready. Grandma's house might be in District Four, but it gave off a vibe of District 12. Her tablecloth had a look of 12. She had a picture of Grandpa that was patterned in coal dust. Man, that stuff sticks for life.

Haymitch came stumbling in, nearly toppling over the chair he plopped into. "Where are your parents?" He grumbled, eyeing me.

"They're getting ready to leave. Grandma wants to give us a tour of the hospital." I explained, running my hand over my braid.

He nodded in understanding then brushed his locks from his face. There was a tray of muffins on the table, so he helped himself to it. He began to pick at it, eating small pieces at a time. Manners were never Haymitch's strong suit.

Dad came in, smiling at me and Haymitch. "Good morning." He greeted. He walked over, planting a kiss on the top of my head then sat down across from Haymitch.

"Morning," Haymitch replied. "So I've heard you're taking a nice tour of the hospital. How lovely."

"Katniss's mother wants to show us an addition to the hospital. It must be pretty special if she's trying to find a babysitter for the kids." Dad slightly chuckled, grabbing a muffin for himself.

"What? She doesn't deem me acceptable?" Haymitch asked, a smile creeping into his face.

"More like she didn't think you'd be awake by now." Dad laughed before he took a bite of his blueberry muffin.

xxx

"Now, I know Annie should be coming for this kids soon and I wanted to save this for the end, but I thought you'd want the kids to see this." Grandma explained, rushing down the hospital hallway. We trailed behind her, trying to keep up, but we weren't used to speed walking. If you wanted to get somewhere fast, you ran.

The hallway was covered in beautiful pictures of flowers and butterflies. I found it strange to find such happy thoughts inside a hospital, the place where some find their bitter end. I turned forward again, not wanting to think of the people meeting their end at this moment.

Rye would stop at a picture on the wall, admire it for a few seconds, then sprint back to Mom's side. Then he would repeat the process again and again. I had no idea how he had so much energy to perform this repeatedly.

I was at the back, not really liking the idea of being inside this hospital. Sure, it was brand new and had helped many people, but it made my stomach hurt. The smell burned my nose and the unnatural cleanliness made me feel out of place. Before you could enter a new part, you had to coat your hands in hand sanitizer to help stop from spreading diseases. Isn't that a nice thought?

Soon, everyone stopped and softly gasped. I went beside Dad, trying to get a look at what we were supposed to see. I furrowed my eyes, unable to find what was so amazing that we had gone silent. Soon, my blue eyes landed on it.

 _Primrose Intensive Care Unit_

"They set this unit aside especially for young children that need special care," Grandma explained. "They asked me if they could name it after you, but I thought you would like it named after Prim more. Do you mind?"

"I think it's perfect." Mom softly spoke, her voice slightly shaking. Her hand reached out, touching the plaque. Underneath it, there was a picture of Aunt Prim and a description of her.

"Why don't you two head back outside?" Dad whispered to me and Rye. "Annie should be here now. Go have fun." He added, giving us a gentle shove.

Quietly, Rye and I headed back outside. It was almost noon and the heat had started to rise. It was crazy how warm it was here, yet it was winter. At home, it could possibly be snowing and here you wanted to go swimming.

Once we were outside, we quickly saw Fredrick. "Fredrick!" Rye cheered, running to envelope him in a hug.

"Hey, Rye," he laughed, returning the hug. He looked up, his sea green eyes meeting my blue eyes. "Hey, Willow." He grinned.

"Hi, Fredrick," I answered. "I thought your mom was going to watch us today."

"She was," he answered, standing up and holding Rye in his arms. "But I thought we could have more at the beach."

"The beach? Let's go right now!" Rye exclaimed, squirming to get out of Fredrick's arms.

"Woah, there. Not so fast, shrimp," Fredrick laughed, tightening his grip around Rye. "You have to say the magic words."

"Please, let me go!" Rye giggled, kicking his legs.

"Actually, it was, 'Fredrick is the best,' but I'll take your answer." He grinned, setting Rye on his feet. Immediately, Rye took off to my side, his hand grabbing mine. His gray eyes lit up as he jumped up and down.

"Let's go now, Willow! Let's go to the beach!" He cheered, his excitement radiating off of him. Fredrick laughed beside us, turning around and starting to walk away.

"Come on, dorks. I'll show you my favorite spot." He called out. Before I could move, Rye yanked my arm, pulling me to follow Fredrick. I almost fell on my face, but somehow my legs were able to keep up with Rye.

xxx

We walked along the shore in ankle-deep in the water. The sun was beginning to set, casting pinks and purples alike across the sky. This was the softest sand I had ever felt and it was so white. The ocean was a deep blue and every once in a while, a little fish would swim past us.

In my hands, I carried all of the shells Rye and I had collected throughout the day. Rye carried our bucket that had a few fish that we had caught. Fredrick had the fishing poles he brought along perched against his shoulder.

"Well, the sand should be cooling off. Wanna build some sand castles?" Fredrick asked. Rye and I nodded our heads, following him to a nice spot in the shade. Fredrick explained to us how to build the castles. He showed us how to get the sand wet so it would stick and we used seashells as decorations.

I was exhausted from the sun beating down on us all day and splashing in the water. It felt nice to lay on the sandy shore and make cute, little sand castles. It didn't take much effort and it helped us bond. "I've had a lot of fun today." I declared.

"Me, too." Rye agreed, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he patted the sides of his lumpy castle.

"Me, too. I haven't had this much fun in years." Fredrick smiled, his castle already taller than my castle and Rye's combined. His hands had this process memorized. You could tell by the way they gently pressed and scooped on the sides carving smooth edges.

"This has been the best part of the trip." Rye stated, shaking his blonde locks from his gray eyes. His blonde hair was sprinkled in sand and salty water.

"Where else have you gone?" Fredrick asked, his sea green eyes lighting up.

"District 7." I answered, tossing my dark braid over my shoulder. My skin was now a tint of pink from the sun today. It doesn't hurt to touch it, though I'm sure tonight it will burn. Maybe Grandma will have some aloe to treat it. She is a nurse after all.

"Did you meet Johanna?" He asked, a smile growing on his face.

"You know Johanna?" Rye asked. Fredrick hummed, nodding his head. "She's super funny." Rye giggled, placing seashells on his amateur castle.

I shrugged my shoulder, smiling myself. "She was kinda scary at first, but she's really cool. I wish we could've spent more time with her."

"Johanna comes down here to visit a lot. She's a close friend of our family," he explained. "Plus I think she likes the warm weather. She's not a very big fan of the ocean though."

"Why?" I asked, tilting my head.

Fredrick paused, thinking his words though. His eyebrows furrowed underneath his bronze hair. "During the rebellion, the Capital used water to scare her, so she doesn't really like being around it." He briefly answered. But that was all I wanted to know. I didn't need or want to know how they scared her with the water, especially if it still scares her to this day.

"Does your mom have nightmares?" Rye asked, a soft frown on his face. I became tense, keeping my eyes down. I couldn't believe Rye just asked that.

"Yes. When I was younger, she used to wake up scared that I was missing." He answered.

"My mom does that sometimes. She screams people's names sometimes, too. I get scared when she does that." Rye replied, beginning to poke at his castle.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Fredrick spoke. "Our parents went through a difficult time and although they want to forget, sometimes their mind won't let them. The next time that happens, just know that your mom loves you very much and doesn't mean to scare you."

I looked up, seeing his eyes trained on me. "How did you help your mom when she had nightmares?" I asked.

"Well, usually she would just need to see my face and she would feel better."

"That's all?" Rye asked.

Fredrick lightly chuckled, nodding his head. "Yes. She loved my dad very much and we're very similar so when her eyes would land on me, she would realize that me and my father were both okay."

"Where is your dad?" Rye questioned.

"Rye." I quietly scolded.

"It's okay," Fredrick replied, gently touching my shoulder. "My dad, Finnick, passed away during the rebellion so I've never met him. He's in a safe place now."

"With Aunt Prim and Dad's family?" Rye asked.

Fredrick nodded, a soft smile on his face. "Yes." He answered. Something inside me stirred. I crawled over to him, pulling him into a hug. Rye joined in, his little arms wrapping around us. We sat like this for a while as the sun began to hide beneath the water.


	13. Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen**

We had left District Four early that next morning. The train had finished unloading and reloading the supplies, which meant it was time for us to be on our way. The next stop was the Capital, which we would spend the next few days.

Everyone helped us carry our baggage to the train, giving hugs and kisses goodbye. They acted like they would never see each other again. Which, I suppose, is a possibility. You can never be certain when the last time you'll see a bright smile on your loved one's face will be.

We zoomed through the landscape, rushing towards the Capital. I was nervous about meeting Effie. Mom and Dad both spoke wonderfully about her, but I was afraid to get my hopes too high for her to reach. I decided not to make any assumptions.

To help stop me from thinking about the Capital and Aunt Effie, I ate everything that was laid out in front of us. Breakfast was being served and, honestly, I was starving. Traveling takes a lot of energy. Especially when dealing Rye.

I piled my plate high with the glorious, freshly made food. Oh, it smelled so delicious. "Willow, not so much." Mom gently warned, eyeing me.

"But I'm starving!" I complained, slightly tossing back my head.

"Oh, let her be, Katniss. She's a growing girl for Pete's sake." Haymitch grumbled as he chopped up his food. I sent a smile his way though he didn't catch it. He was too busy eyeing his food and trying to cut it up.

"How long are we staying the Capital?" Rye asked as he cautiously set down his glass of orange juice.

"For a few days. There's lots of stuff Mom and I want to see." Dad answered.

"Do we get to come?" I asked, a hopeful smile on my face. I wanted to see everything the Capital had to offer. It was all anyone talked about in school. The bright lights. The fancy designs. The beautiful colors.

"Well, somethings are only for adults," Mom replied, glancing towards Haymitch and Dad. Oh, goody. I'm not allowed. "But don't worry, Effie will take good care of you and Rye."

"Ya-hoo!" Rye howled, a grin wide on his chubby face. "We're going to stay with Aunt Effie!"

"It's only for a few days, then we're headed back to 12, Squirt." Dad chuckled, rubbing Rye's curly hair.

"Oh, can we please be back by Monday? Gale is going to present to our class that day and I don't want to miss it. I promised him I'd be there." Rye begged, pulling out his puppy dog eyes. I shrugged my shoulders, fine with coming home by Monday.

Until I was hit with the reality train.

I couldn't be back by Monday! That was the presentation day! I had to find someone to speak about the rebellion and I most certainly wasn't going to put my parents through that mess. I actually have a heart. But I didn't have anyone else to speak for me!

"Sure, we can be back by Monday." Mom promised, giving Rye a soft smile.

"Thank you!" He happily sighed, leaning back into his chair.

"Do we really have to be back by Monday?" I asked. Suddenly, my question gathered every pair of eyes on the train.

"What's wrong with being home on Monday?" Mom fired back, quickly realizing that something was up. Her gray eyes studied everything about me. Her motherly instincts were kicking in.

"I just don't want to leave, is all," I answered, hoping my smile was real enough. Their eyes all stayed on me, unblinking. "Plus I don't want to go back to school. You know much I hate it."

The tension quickly dispersed, everyone going back to their plates. "Well, you'll have to go back sometime. At least you'll get to spend a few days with Effie." Dad smiled, trying to brighten my spirit.

"I can't wait to meet her." I replied, a relaxed smile now on my face. I couldn't tell them why I really didn't want to go home. They didn't need more stress in their lives. This was their time to relax and get away from our troubles.

Slowly, the Capital came into view. Not all at once. A couple of brightly colored buildings trickled into view, acting as a small greeting. Soon, the buildings moved closer and closer, theirs colors colliding into one huge mess of a rainbow as we zoomed into the center.

They weren't lying when they said it was fabulous.

The sight of the famous Capital made my heart beat faster, my lungs breath deeper. I had to control my impulse to squeal and press my hands and face against window. Oh, it looked so gorgeous. I couldn't wait to see what it would look like at night.

"These buildings are prettier than ours," Rye stated, his nose pressed against the window. He snapped around, his eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"Well, the Capital is into the fashion," Mom explained, wandering towards him. "They're always ahead on the latest treads. District 12 is a little behind, but don't worry, we'll catch up."

"We sure have a long way to go. There's no way we could get this many buildings in District 12. They're so big." Rye added.

"Well, there's lot of people. They all need houses to live in." Mom answered, her hand softly brushing through his blonde curls.

"Geez, there must be millions of people here." Rye awed.

"Well, not quite," Dad replied, now standing behind us. "But it sure feels like it."

xxx

"Now, when we get off this train, remember to be polite and kind to Aunt Effie," Mom reminded as she grabbed her bags. "She's very uptight about manners."

"Yes, ma'am." I answered. She sent me a tiny glance, not sure whether I was mocking her or being serious. Haymitch chuckled in the background, mumbling to Dad about my comment.

"What are we going to do first?" Rye asked as the train began to slow to a stop.

"Well, meet Aunt Effie, of course," Mom answered, trying to ignore Dad and Haymitch. "Then we'll go see some famous sights. You'll have fun, don't worry."

I wasn't worried about having fun. That's an easy task for Rye and I. We could entertain ourselves during a two hour speak about the recent political drama and be as quiet as mice.

No, what I was really worried about-

"Oh, my goodness!" A voice shrieked as we exited. As woman with makeup plastered on her face rushed to us, her heels loudly clicking against the ground. "Look at you! It's been years!"

"We've missed you, Effie." Dad grinned as she quickly wrapped her arms around him, giving him a tight squeeze.

"Oh, I've missed you, too, Peeta. You always know how to brighten my day, especially when it's been truly dreadful," She replied, blinking her very long eyelashes at her. Her eyes were an icy blue and seemed to be zipping with electricity. She turned to Mom, placing a hand over her chest. "My, don't you just look gorgeous?"

"Thank you, Effie." Mom softly smiled as she set her bags to the side, letting Effie give her a gentle hug.

"Don't worry, Katniss. I've missed you very much, too. Though you may be a pain in my rear end sometimes, I've definitely missed your quiet company." Effie sighed, brushing back her golden locks. Gold must be the fashion, because it was everywhere on Effie.

"Quiet?" Haymitch scoffed, a teasing smile growing on his aged face. "She's never quiet. Always complaining about something."

"Haymitch, you know what I meant," she replied, her nose slightly turned up. "It's nice to have somebody around even when no one is talking. Katniss is great at that. She's not afraid of awkward silences like you."

Haymitch just laughed, grabbing Effie's shoulders in his hands. "I've missed you, Effie."

"Oh, I missed you, too, Haymitch." She giggled, giving him a quick peck on the lips. Suddenly, her blue eyes caught mine. A squeal rushed out from her mouth as she pointed at me.

"You must be Willow. Darling, you look just like mother. So strong and beautiful," she complimented, hurrying to my side. She pushed my dark locks behind my ears, her hands gently brushing my face. "My, you must be the prettiest girl in school with your big blue eyes."

"Thank you." I blushed, an embarrassed giggle getting stuck in my throat.

She took my hands in her's. A sweet smile grew on her face as she studied mine. "I'm so overjoyed that we've finally got to meet in person. I've been dreaming of this day since the moment I heard you were born."

I laughed, shrugging my shoulders up to my ears. I wasn't sure what to say. I was so happy to meet her, too. I didn't want to ruin the moment. "We are going to have some girl bonding time this weekend. Just you and me. I'll take you to the best boutique in the Capital!" She grinned.

"Really?" I gasped.

"I promise with my whole heart, Willow." She declared, giving my hands a quick squeeze.

"What about me?" Rye asked, quickly jumping to our side. Effie let out a little gasp, turning to face him.

"Well, who could forgot about Rye?" She grinned, leaning towards him. "I remember hearing that you really like angel food cake."

"Oh, yes! That's my favorite!" Rye cheered, a smile breaking out on his chubby face. His gray eyes were wide and his hands were happily clasped together.

"I know the best bakery in the Capital," she answered. She leaned over, pretending to tell him a secret, though we could all hear her loudly whisper to him. "But it doesn't compare to your father's baking. No, no. Your father is the best baker."

"I think so, too." Rye quietly giggled back, covering his mouth as he laugh. Effie laughed, pulling him in for a hug and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"And one for you, too, Willow." She said, laying on a sloppy kiss. I giggled, wiping my hand across my cheek.

xxx

"Who is that?" Rye asked, his little head titled up. Everyone was silent, wandering from statue from statue. Rye and I were told we were going to visit the Tributes' Garden. I'm not sure what I was expecting, maybe fields of blooming flowers, but definitely not this.

"That's Mags. She was a very good friend of ours." Mom answered. Even from here, I could see her eyes beginning to turn a shade of pink. She slightly sniffed, trying to hide her sorrow from us with a wide grin.

Dad had his arm looped over Mom's shoulder. He wasn't in any better shape. His face clearly showed his pain, though he tried to mask it as well. Maybe Rye believed their fake smiles, but I could easily see through it.

As we proceeded further into the garden, statues became more and more emotional. Their voices would crack. Sometimes they wouldn't even answer. I took over, reading off the names for Rye. Haymitch was far behind with Effie, both probably wanting to give us space. After all, this was my parents' first trip back to the Capital in over a decade.

"Oh, this is Boggs," Mom softly sighed. By now, tears were staining her cheeks. Tears were carved on her face and she looked years older. She reached out, gently tracing her hand over his nameplate. "He was my commander during the rebellion." She quietly explained.

"It was terrible how he died," she continued, her eyes glazing over as she stared out into the distance. She clenched her shirt in her hand, fighting some memory. "He didn't deserve to end that way. He had done so much for me. I never got to thank him."

This was the first I had finally heard part of Mom's part in the rebellion. Well, the first I heard from her own lips. Her words hit me like one of the heavy weights at school. So many terrible things are tucked away in her head, wiggling their way out in this one garden.

"Why don't we move on, Katniss?" Dad asked, pulling her back into his arms. We continued down the path, Rye kicking a rock as we moved along.

"This is hurting, Mom. Isn't it?" He asked, tilting his gray eyes up at me.

"A little. She's remembering people she tried to forget over the years." I replied. He nodded, then stared at the ground.

He took off to her side, grabbing her hand and giving her a gentle smile. Haymitch and Effie had caught up by now and walked beside me. Effie gave my shoulder a soft squeeze, her blue eyes now puffy from crying.

"Hey, that looks like Fredrick!" Rye called out, pointing at a statue. Sure enough, I could see the resemblance. The athletic body and comforting green eyes were carbon copies.

"This is Finnick," Dad answered, his voice coming out hoarse. He gave a quick cough and fixed his posture. "Finnick actually gave me CPR and restarted my heart."

"You died?" I blurted out. Dad gave a soft chuckle, nodding his head at me.

"Woah, cool!" Rye cheered, slightly hopping from foot to foot. "What was it like?"

"It was quick. I don't really remember it." Dad answered, ruffling Rye's blonde curls. We were all quiet for awhile, admiring the statue in front of us. Without him, Dad wouldn't be here. Actually, I wouldn't be here and neither would Rye. We really owed Finnick more than I ever imagined.

"Well, why don't we move on? We have a schedule, after all." Effie gently smiled, moving us along the path. Before we rounded the corner, I stopped and took one last look at the man who saved my father's life. I would always be in debt to Finnick Odair.

If the last statue wasn't emotional enough, these ones definitely took the cake. It was a closed circle, filled with people who definitely had a large impact on all of our lives. Of course, there were statues of Mom, Dad, and Haymitch. We didn't stop at those, figuring it was stupid since we all know about each other.

First was Cinna. He was Mom's stylist in the Games. In fact, he was really the one who coined her as, "The Girl On Fire." Everything about him spoke kindness. His stance wasn't intimating and his face was gentle. I think we would have been good friends.

Gale was in here, too. I don't understand how he earned a spot in this sacred garden. I suppose he was a huge part in the rebellion. According to his nameplate he rescued Dad during the war, whenever that was, and was Mom's best friend. A little fun fact about Gale, for some reason he was showcased as Mom's cousin during the Games. How horrid.

Standing side by side was Rue and Prim, each my age. It was terrifying seeing how similar they were. The way they stood, like they were perched and about to fly. Their sweet faces full of hope. It's so terrifying to think they're about my age. At my age, they were so mature and humble.

If only I could be like them. If only I had the bravery they had.

An arm wrapped around me. A kiss was planted on the top of my head. I leaned back, folding into my parents' embrace. "Don't they look so peaceful?" Mom asked, resting her chin on my head.

"I wish they would have put flowers in her hair. That was what really helped fuel the flames." Dad replied, his strong hands brushing through my dark locks.

"If we burn, you burn with us." Mom softly stated, her eyes glazing over, another memory hitting her. Oh, how I wished I could take away all of their sorrow and tuck it away.

"Katniss? Peeta?" Effie called. We turned around, seeing Haymitch explaining people to Rye. "Are you three ready to go?" She asked.

We walked away, leaving all of our unspoken thanks behind in that garden. I never returned. None of us did.


	14. Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Oh, my. What shall we do today?" Effie asked, resting her head against her folded hands. Mom, Dad, and Haymitch had left early this morning. They had some special meeting with President Paylor.

"I don't know. Mom usually has a schedule for us to follow." I answered, shrugging my shoulders. Effie's blue eyes brightened at the word schedule.

"I think we should plan a schedule as well," she grinned, reaching out to grab a notepad of paper and a pink pen. She scribbled on the sheet then tore it off. She looked at us, the pen poised in her hand. "What shall we start with?"

Rye and I exchanged glances. Personally, I wanted to see everything the Capital had to offer. The bright lights and gorgeous buildings. They were fabulous compared to the houses back in 12.

"I want to see the Capital." I replied, a light blush growing on my cheeks. Really, it probably sounded stupid. Effie has lived in the Capital her whole life. She probably thinks I'm a fool for asking such a stupid request.

"And I want to eat some angel food cake!" Rye cheered, his gray eyes wide in excitement. "After all, you did promise to take me to the Capital's best bakery." He added.

Effie let out a laugh, placing her open hand on her chest. "My, you two sure are adorable," she grinned. "Alright, I'll take you two to the boutique then we'll head to the bakery. After that, we'll wander around the Capital to enjoy the views." She explained.

"That sounds great." I smiled, thankful that she didn't mock my request.

"I'll go grab my purse and then we'll be on our merry way." She declared as she rushed off, her heels loudly clomping against her tile floor.

"Oh boy," Rye began, looking up at me. "I'm so excited for the day. It'll be so much fun."

"Yeah, I really like Effie a lot. She's really funny." I agreed, giving him a soft smile.

 _xxx_

"Willow, you would look adorable in this blue." Effie cooed, holding a light blue dress against my body. I guess I didn't really understand the word boutique. I should have known she meant that we would be clothes shopping.

I basically hate shopping. Sure, it's definitely not the worst thing in the world, but I don't have a great sense of style. I mean, I've worn stripes and spots together and didn't know they "clashed" until Annie back home explained it to me. How was I supposed to know there's some unspoken rule about that?

"Are we almost done? I'm starving." Rye complained, sitting in a chair beside the dressing room. His gray eyes were drooping and his head was pressed back against the wall. He was bored out of his mind.

"Oh, yes. Willow and I are going to go try on these outfits to make sure they work. 'Cause once you bring it home, you can't bring it back. Well, I suppose you could ship it to me from 12, but that's a waste of time and energy." Effie rambled, talking with her hands as we entered the dressing room.

We tossed countless shirts and dresses over my head. I pulled millions of pants and skirts up until I thought I would hurl. In the end, I left with about five items I actually liked and fit me. Isn't shopping so much fun?

"Now, let's head to the bakery. It's just a few blocks from here." Effie explained as she hooked my bag on her open arm. She reached her hand out, wiggling her fingers at Rye. Eagerly, he snatched her hand and held it as we walked.

"Aunt Effie," he began, his little legs quickly moving to try to keep up her long strides.

"Yes, Rye?"

"How do you walk in those stilts?" He asked, pointing at her heels. She let out a loud laugh and tossed her head back.

"Sweet Rye, these are heels. And it takes years of practice." She explained, keeping her pace. Rye looked at me, a smile wide on his face.

"I want to see Willow try to wear those." Rye smirked. Rye of all people knows how clumsy I am. The idea of me being able to gracefully, and quickly, walk in heels was a joke.

"I'd probably just roll my ankles." I replied, staring at the buildings surrounding us. Effie laughed again, her voice reminding me of wind chimes.

"You're just like your mother. She practiced for hours yet she couldn't take two steps in my shortest pair of heels." She explained, a grin on her face.

Soon, we arrived at the bakery. Once we opened the doors, the smell of freshly made bread quickly filled out noses. Rye and I let out a sigh of happiness. The smell reminded me of Dad.

All around us were cakes and muffins of many shapes and sizes. Let alone all of the different different cakes, there were people that wore ridiculous outfits. They all had the same fashion sense as Effie. Bright colors in their hair and makeup. If they came to District 12, you can bet they would be pointed at all day every day.

"So, what should we get, little pumpkins?" Effie asked, smiling down at us.

"Umm. What even is there?" I asked, tilting my head to get a look at everything.

"There's many different cakes and baked goods. Of course, you probably know a lot more of the names than I do. Your father has always enjoyed baking." She rambled as she pointed to one item after another.

"Can I get my angel food cake now?" Rye begged, slightly jumping in his spot.

"Of course," Effie replied. "We just have to wait in line."

"But that could take forever!" Rye whined. Effie began to comfort him as I admired the shop. Sure, the dessert looked absolutely delicious, but I was more attracted to the designs on the building. These were only common to the Capital. I had never seen anything like this anywhere else.

Slowly, we reached the front. Thankfully, Rye didn't burst into tears. He complained about starving the whole time though. Effie was able to handle him, even though I secretly doubted her.

We sat outside at a little table. It protected us by a gorgeous umbrella from the beating sun. Even though winter was approaching, the sun was hot. Peacefully, we ate beside a little water fountain that was made in honor of everyone lost in the rebellion.

 _xxx_

Night time was beginning to settle in. We were back at Effie's house and Mom and Dad were putting Rye down for bed. He gladly agreed, claiming he was tired from all of the walking we did today.

That left me and Effie some alone time. We sat around her fire, admiring the flickering flames. She sipped her green tea while I tightly held onto my hot chocolate. I wasn't thirsty. I had a lot on my mind.

"So, Willow. How are you?" Effie asked, her blue eyes meeting mine.

"Not so good, Aunt Effie." I sighed, brushing my dark locks from my face. She frowned studying me.

"Why? What's wrong?" she quickly asked. "Are you homesick? Is this nothing like you imagined?"

"No, no. This is wonderful." I grinned. I let out a huff, biting on my lower lip. "I'm just nervous about what I'm going to do when I get back to District 12."

She studied me, slightly puckering her lips. "Maybe I can help you."

"I don't think you can fix this problem."

"Well, what is it? I'm very determined, Willow." She declared, scooting closer to me.

"When I get back, my teacher wants us to bring someone who lived through the rebellion to talk about their part." I summarized, swirling my hot chocolate. The heat was burning my hands but I couldn't set it down.

"Bring your parents. I'm sure everyone would want to-"

"I don't want to make them relive that," I cut off. Effie awed, realizing my problem. "I just, I don't know who else to bring."

"I do," Effie smiled, resting her hand on my leg. "You have Haymitch. I'm sure he would do anything for you, Willow."

"Are you sure Haymitch would be okay talking about it? I mean, what if I cause him to have some nervous breakdown or-"

"Willow," Effie began, sympathy on her makeup free face. "Haynitch survived his Hunger Games and went on to mentor other children into theirs. I think he'll be okay. Just ask him. And if he says no, then I'll always rush to District 12."

I smiled, letting out a small chuckle of relief. "Thank you, Aunt Effie."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

 _xxx_

The next day, I walked to Haymitch's room and knocked on his door. I heard some shuffling behind the door. Soon, the door opened and Haymitch leaned against the doorway. "Hello, Willow."

"Hi, Haymitch. Can I ask you something?"

"You just did." He teased, a soft smile on his face. I grinned and rolled my eyes. His joke helped to take away some of my nerves.

"At school, we have to bring someone to talk about their part in the rebellion. Would you come for me?" I asked, looking into his gray eyes. Something flashed across his face. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"I suppose." He mumbled, running his free hand through his tangled hair.

"Thank you." I smiled, bringing him in for a hug.

"Yeah, yeah. Anything for you, sweet pea."


	15. Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

It was early Monday morning. The sun hasn't risen yet and everything was dark. How did I know it was morning? Because I hadn't slept the entire night.

Even though I was exhausted from our trip, my stomach wouldn't allow me any peace. I felt like I had to throw up. My body was sweating like crazy, not helping the situation much either.

It was presentation day.

Even though Haymitch had agreed to speak for me, I still felt awful. Here I was, making one of my traumatized family members speak about their role in the rebellion. Why? Why was this an assignment?

Didn't Mrs. Belling realize how hard this is for me? Couldn't she see that not everyone is comfortable talking about their mental scars? I wasn't like most of the kids in school. My parents were the foundation of our current lives. Without them, who knows what we would be doing now.

My parents weren't babies or children at the time of the rebellion. My parents were tributes in the unspeakable Hunger Games. People nowadays don't seem to understand how much those awful events effect a person.

I know though.

I hear my mother's screams.

I wake up in cold sweats, hearing her shouting for her sister Prim or her ally Rue. On rare occasions, I'll hear her calling for my dad or Rye. Sometimes she sobs about Finnick or Thresh.

But the scariest moments are when I hear my own name.

What does she picture?

The Capital broadcasting our lives to everyone? Someone hurting me?

Maybe it's me being drawn into the Hunger Games.

Maybe it's never having me at all.

"Willow, it's time for school." Her voice spoke, startling me. I jumped, gripping my sheets. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway towards Rye's room. Quietly, I slipped out my bed and went downstairs.

I sat down at the table, staring at my oatmeal. The idea of eating anything in general made me feel nauseous. I held onto my stomach, looking at the mushy brown mess. Usually, I can oatmeal without a problem. Now, I can't even smell it.

"Now, I know it isn't Capital food, but it's still delicious." Dad teased, smiling at me. I looked up, meeting his blue eyes.

I smiled, grabbing my spoon. I thought it would slip through my sweaty palms. I took the biggest scoop possible and shoved it into my dry mouth. I gave a happy hum, nodding my head in approval.

He grinned walking back into the kitchen.

I swallowed my mouthful and nearly gagged. I had to eat this for Dad. He couldn't know anything was wrong. As much as I wanted out of this, I knew I would have to do it eventually.

By the time Mom had carried Rye downstairs, I was finished with my breakfast. Quickly, I rushed upstairs, hurrying to get ready. Not only that, but this way if I did throw up, at least I was near the bathroom.

Gradually, I ran down the stairs, hooking my backpack over my shoulder. Rye was patiently waiting at the bottom, talking to our parents. He was excited to hear from Gale again. He liked learning about history.

"I'm glad you're happy to be back." Mom smiled, fixing his curly blonde hair.

"Gotta love a studious son." Dad teased.

"I don't even know what that means." Rye laughed as I reached the bottom. "Willow!" He grinned, looking at me.

"And there's our bright eyed daughter." Mom smiled, looking at me. She walked towards me, her cold hands fixing my hair. Cautiously, she tucked the loose strands back into my braid.

"She looks ready to be back at school." Dad nodded. I nodded my head, anxiety pumping through my veins.

"Goodbye. We love you." Mom stated, kissing both of our heads. Dad followed behind her, kissing our heads as well.

"Be good." Dad smiled, opening the door for us. A rush of cold air entered in, sending chills up my arms.

We walked in outside, the sun just beginning to glow. A frost was present on the grass and sidewalk. Winter was starting to come. Any day now, I was expecting snow to appear on our doorstep.

Slowly, the school came into our eyesight. Rye and went out separate ways, him going to the younger schoolhouse while I went to the older one. Today was going to be interesting. Today would change everything.

xxx

Parents began to enter the schoolhouse. Any minute now, we would start our assignments. I slightly prayed that Haymitch wouldn't wake up or that he would forget to come.

Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, he took his seat beside my desk. His dark locks were brushed back and his gray eyes showed an emotion I had never seen before. Yet, he smiled at me. He kissed my cheek, greeting me.

Around us, adults began to whisper to each other. I knew what they were saying.

"Seriously? The town drunk?" One mother spoke behind me.

Haymitch obviously heard, stiffening. I could tell he was arguing with himself about what to do. Haymitch has never been afraid to speak his mind, but he was in public with me. He didn't want to embarrass me.

I held out my hand, my nerves starting to act up again.

His cold, callused hand slipped into mine. His grip tightened, just enough not to crush my fingers.

It made me feel safe. It made me feel protected.

"Now that everyone is here, let's begin," Mrs. Belling spoke up, gathering our attention. "The children were assigned to bring someone to talk about the rebellion. We would all like to hear personal experiences about life during that time. If a subject gets too hard, don't feel forced to speak about it. The students realize that this was a difficult time in our history."

The room was slightly buzzing. Parents talked among themselves about what to say. "Let's begin with Prim." Mrs. Belling declared, gesturing to one of my classmates.

Her grandparents stood beside her. They talked about living in the Capital and watching my parents during the Hunger Games. At their names, my grip tightened on Haymitch's hand. Eventually, they finished their story. That was really the only one I could listen to.

The rest began to blur into one, huge story. We had families from District four, taking about their fights. Another one talked about stealing Peace Keepers' weapons to attack the Capital. My stomach began to churn harder and faster.

"Thank you, Finnick and your parents," Mrs. Belling smiled. She turned to me. "Willow, you're next."

Haymitch and I stood up, our hands still intertwined. People began to whisper to each other again. Their curious eyes turned into evil glares. Why would I chose a drunk over my victorious parents? He couldn't even compare to my glorious family.

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore their snarky comments. "I brought my Uncle Haymitch Abernathy." I declared, making most people stop talking.

"Most of you probably know me as the town drunk," Haymitch began. Everyone nodded to each other, their noses scrunched up. Haymitch's head tilted upward and his chest slightly puffed out. "But what none of you know it's that I'm the victor of the 50th Hunger Games. I'm the victor of the Second Quarter Quell."

The room was silent.

They had forgotten, didn't know, or didn't recognize Haymitch until this moment. Their glares morphed into wide eyes of shock. Their hands covered their gawking mouths. No one could speak.

"Three weeks after I was crowned victor, my mother, younger brother, and girlfriend were murdered by President Snow. I began to drink to drown any feelings or memories of them. I mentored 46 tributes, including Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. I watched Katniss and Peeta go back into the Hunger for a second time, assuming they would were as good as dead." He continued.

His grip tightened on my hand. "I successfully made it to District 13, only to hear that District 12 was bombed. Only a lucky hundred survived," he breathed. The room was tense and silent. It was hard to even breath. "I watched countless rebels die at the hands of the Capital. After the war, I couldn't believe the fallout. Close friends had gone insane or were dead. I had never felt lonelier. Even though President Snow was dead, it felt like he still controlled our painfully lives."

Still, no one moved. They didn't dare to blink.

"Soon, people moved by to District 12. The quiet place now had noise and action. Eventually, tiny babies grew up in the house next me. I never knew how much I would grow to need their innocent laughter. After all of the pain I had endured, I never thought I could feel happiness again. Somehow, I'm still kicking." He finished.

Quietly, we both sat down, our hands still tightly together. I thought we would need a crowbar to separate us. "Thank you, Mr. Abernathy," Mrs. Belling spoke. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that you will never go unremembered."

xxx

After the last student had finished, we were all allowed to go home. School had already finished for the younger kids, so Haymitch and I walked home, our hands still clamped together. "I didn't know that you had lost your family." I spoke up.

"Most people don't. Everyone was told that they had died from the latest disease. President Snow wanted it to be kept a secret." Haymitch explained.

"Then how did you know?"

"He wanted to make a point, Willow. I had done something I wasn't supposed to, so he had to show me that he controlled everything about me."

"I'm not sure I understand."

His gray eyes looked into my blue ones. For the first and only time ever, I saw tears. They were pooled in his soft eyes. "President Snow wanted to keep everything to himself. He was an evil excuse of a human who would kill anyone who even thought about rebelling."

"Why didn't just he kill you then?"

"That would be too nice, Willow. He wanted to make you hurt. He wanted to break you until you were on your hands and knees begging for forgiveness. Hurting people you cared about was just one of his evil weapons of torture."

I stared forward, still slightly confused. I thought I had this whole President Snow business figured out. Maybe it was a lot more complicated than taught in school.

"Let's not tell your mother about today, okay? I think I spoke about some thing too explicitly. I don't want her or your daddy to worry." Haymitch spoke up, clearing the air.

"Okay, Uncle Haymitch." I agreed. I wasn't planning on telling them anything.

He nodded his head, licking his lips. Soon, we reached the front door of my house. "Uncle Haymitch." I began, looking at my feet.

"Yes, sweet pea?"

"If I have anymore questions about the rebellion and the Hunger Games, can I talk to you about it? I'm afraid to scare Mom and Dad. I don't want them to worry about me and I don't want to remind them of bad things that might have happen to them." I explained.

"Of course, sweet pea. Anything for you."

"Thank you." I breathed, wrapping my arms around his torso. Slowly, his arms wrapped around me, his cold hand brushing down my hair.

 **Sorry that I haven't updated in forever!! Summer got really busy but now I'm free a good amount of the time! Hopefully I can update once a month again!! THANKS FOR READING AND STICKING WITH ME!!**


	16. Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

I dreaded the next day of school. I knew what was coming and I knew it wouldn't end well. The whispers had begun to spread through the district, everyone telling a different account of what happened. I'm almost positive that Mom and Dad had heard already, but didn't say anything to me. Maybe they were okay with it.

My hand ached for Haymitch's safe grip. I longed to feel his callused fingers scrap the back of my hand.

I looked to my left, seeing Rye happily humming to himself as we walked to school. Fog was in the air, giving off an eerie chill. Wanting to feel some support, I grabbed his little hand.

His gray eyes darted to my blue ones. "What's wrong?" He immediately asked.

"Nothing," I shrugged. "I just want to hold your hand. That's all."

"Okay." He said, facing forward again. His mood was still chipper, slightly skipping as we made our way to school. Somehow, his actions began to rub off on me. Instead of feeling anxious about what the other kids would say to me today, a smile grew on my face. I enjoyed this morning walk with Rye.

 _xxx_

"Willow." Prim called out as we exited the schoolhouse. Somehow, I had successfully survived the school day. Nothing about the rebellion was brought up. Nothing about my parents was even mentioned. It was like I was six and fearless again.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning again. Most of my classmates walked around us, heading to their homes. But a few stayed behind, gathering around. I knew what was coming. I had been preparing for it since last night.

"A couple kids and I wanted to ask you a few questions." She explained. I glanced over at Rye, who was seated under his tree. His nose was deep in a book and all you could see was his wavy blonde locks.

I faced her again, shrugging my shoulder. I wasn't worried about Rye hearing our conversation. He was distracted. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"Well, we were all just curious why you picked your uncle is all." Prim lightly laughed, slightly rolling her blue eyes. She brushed her brown strands from her face, tucking them behind her slightly pointed ears.

"Umm, well. I just thought that he would be a great person to bring since most people don't know about him." I said, softly swaying back and forth. I kept a smile on my face, hoping one would be brought to her's as well.

She arched an eyebrow and studied me. "How are you related to him again? Through your mother, right?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest. I glanced around, spotting a group of kids forming around us. My heart rate began to rise. My palms were beginning to sweat.

"Umm, no. Actually, I'm not related to him at all." I lightly laughed, eyeing the people around us. Quickly noticing my gaze, they went around Prim so I could see them all. I began to feel threatened though I knew they couldn't cause me any harm. Mrs. Belling was indoors a few feet away and probably listening.

"Then, why did you call him your uncle?" Prim asked, tilting her head. It was the way her blue eyes blinked at me. She was trying to dig at me. She wanted me to slip up and spill something.

"Haymitch mentored my parents in the Games and has been by their side ever since. Even though we're not blood related, we couldn't picture life without him. Actually, none of us would be here without him." I answered, feeling the sudden need to defend him.

"Interesting," Fin spoke up, nodding his head in thought. He moved forward, standing beside Prim. "Strange to think that the rebellion might not have happened if it wasn't for the town drunk." He added, a smirk growing on his face.

"He isn't a drunk. He's not like that." I countered, slightly glaring at Fin.

"He drinks alcohol doesn't he?" Fin asked.

"Yeah."

"And he's usually passed out when you find him, right?" He continued.

I scrunched my nose up in disgust. "No. He's different than that. Stop making him something he isn't."

"But that's what he is," Fin argued. "He's just some old, traumatized alcoholic who your parents crown as some grand hero. He's nothing special. He's nothing different than anyone other old geezer who's survived this long."

"You're wrong," I glared, lowering my voice. "And don't you ever speak about him again like that. You have no idea what he's been through."

"And I bet you don't either." Prim spat back. I froze, glaring at her. She was right. I had heard plenty of times about Haymitch being my parents' mentor and being the victor of the 50th Hunger Games, but I had no idea what he endured in those Games.

"Ya know, we were originally going to ask why you didn't bring your parents instead." Fin began.

"And why don't you? You obviously want to know." I spat back.

"Well, you just seem so tense now, Willow. I don't want to make you cry again." Prim pouted, mocking me. She thought she was something special. She thought she had the upper hand.

"At least I don't cry when I don't get my way. You must really have to be a baby to think having a temper tantrum is a way of solving a problem." I fired back. Her jaw dropped as her cheeks began to burn bright red.

"Look, as much as I love picking on Prim, I seriously just want to know one question," Lucas butted in, stepping in front of Prim. His brown eyes showed curiosity, something I had never seen before in him. "Why didn't you bring your parents?"

I paused, biting in my lower lip. I couldn't hardly tell them the truth. If they knew that I was afraid of giving my parents more nightmares by forcing them to tell their painfully past, I would get nothing but laughs and mocks from my classmates.

"She's probably ashamed of them," Prim spoke up, her nose bright red from holding in her tears. "If I had her parents, you could bet that I would show them off. My drunken 'uncle' wouldn't even be an option."

"Shut up," Lucas shouted back at her. For once, he was on my side. For once, Lucas was sticking up for me against Prim. "Let Willow answer."

But I wasn't going to. They were never going to know why I brought Haymitch.

I shook my head and turned on my heels. Behind me, I could hear a few children shouting that I was a whimp or baby. By this point, I didn't care anymore. This isn't something new. I was fine with them calling me anything they wanted as long as they kept Haymitch out of it.

I held my hand out to Rye. His gray eyes looked up and a smile grew on his chubby face. "Willow!" He cheered, grabbing my hand and jumping to his feet. He enveloped me in a hug. I hugged him back, gently smiling.

We began to walk home, when a voice chased after us. Rye tugged on my arm, pointing down the sidewalk, but I refused to look. It was one thing to pick on me when I was alone, it was another to have Rye beside me. I wasn't going to let them tear me down in front of him.

"Seriously, Willow! Wait up!" They shouted, getting closer and closer.

"Willow, it's Lucas. He really wants to talk to you." Rye pleaded, dragging his heels. Before I could argue, Lucas jumped in front of me, holding out his hands to stop me.

"Willow, that wasn't supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to make fun of your family like that." He declared. I scoffed, rolling my blue eyes.

"Why should I believe you?" I asked, trying to step around him. Lucas was always the one to pick on me. It was ironic that he was the one apologizing.

"Because if I was lying, would I chase you down? Would I be the one to tell them to knock it off?" He asked. I stopped fighting him and looked into his eyes. Again, I spotted something unusual in his brown orbs. Sincerity.

"Why do you even want to know?" I softly replied.

"I don't know," he quietly answered. "I know I've always been mean to you and stuff, but I do care about you and your family. I know what's it's like to have someone broken from the rebellion."

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. This was something I had never heard before. Beside me, Rye was silent, but his hand was still holding mine.

"Who?" I asked.

He looked to the ground. Lucas was hardly shy or embarrassed. This was a strange day.

"My grandfather," he answered. "He doesn't like to talk about it or even mention it."

I studied him, trying to see if this was some trick. Tugging at my heart, I knew he was telling the truth. Only some sick human would make up that lie. At this moment, I choose to trust Lucas. I decided to let him know my reasoning.

"I'm afraid to make them relive their past," I answered. "I don't like making them think about the bad things that happened to them." I added, glancing towards the ground.

"Me, too." He nodded, his eyes still on the ground. We stood like that for a while, nobody speaking. A cool breeze rustled through the branches around us and sent a chill up my spine.

We looked at each other, silently pledging to never speak of this again. "I know I pick on you a lot," he began. "But I want you to know I've always liked you."

I blinked, unsure what to do. "I've got to go. See ya at school, Willow." He quickly spoke, walking quickly away. I glanced over my shoulder, watching him basically sprint away.

"What is he talking about, Willow?" Rye asked.

"Nothing." I said. "Everything's okay now."

And it was.

 _xxx_

The first snowflakes were beginning to fall in the evening sky. I chill ran up my arms, making me shiver. Winter was finally making its appearance. I walked up his rundown front steps and knocked on the door. I wrapped my arms around my body to keep warm.

His gray eyes met mine as he opened the door. "Hey, sweet pea." He said, brushing his dark locks from his face.

"Hi, Uncle Haymitch." I replied, my voice slightly shaking. I was nervous about what I was going to say. I didn't know how he would react.

"It's late, Willow. Is something wrong?" He asked, studying me.

"No, nothing's wrong. Well, not in the way that you're thinking at least." I fumbled, rocking side to side. I wasn't very good at speaking to people when I was nervous or under pressure.

"What way am I thinking?"

"That Mom or Dad are hurt," I answered. "But don't worry, they're not and they know I'm over here."

"Then what's the problem?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. I just had to spit it out. I couldn't hold it in much longer. "Well, don't tell me the problem is that it's snowing." He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"You said I could come to you for anything I was too scared to ask Mom or Dad about. Real or not real?" I blurted out.

"Real," he replied, seriousness washing over his aging face. "But I'm not sure you're ready for the questions you have."

"If the rebellion would have never happened, I would be old enough to be reaped. I want to know." I said, worried that he wouldn't allow it yet. But if not now, then when? When would I ever be 'ready' for the questions I have?

In this light, he looked ten times older and wiser. He opened the door wide. "Come in." He softly spoke.

I entered into his house, a house I had gone into millions of times. This time, it had a different feel to it. It was almost as if he was expecting me. The fireplace was lit and a cozy atmosphere was present in his living room.

He sat in his usual chair in front of the fireplace and tv. I walked over to his couch, only for him to whistle at me. I whipped my head around, seeing him waving his hand at me.

I walked towards him and did something I hadn't done since I was Rye's age. I sat down on his lap as his eyes watched the crackling fire. "What's on your mind?" He asked, his face lit up from the fire.

"You don't have to answer if it makes you feel bad," I began. He looked down at me, no emotions present on his face. "What happened during your Games?" I softly asked.

"My Games were different than any of the others, Willow," he started, his gray eyes staring into my blue ones. "In most Games, twenty-four tributes were sent in to fight until one was left. In my Games, they sent in forty-eight."

"Forty-eight tributes?" I repeated. "That had to be so terrifying."

"I'm not going to lie to you. It was terrifying to say the least."

"When you heard your name reaped, what did you do?" I softly asked.

He let out a long sigh, running his fingers over my braids. "I was called last of all. I knew no one was going to volunteer for me so I did my best to stay strong. I kept all of my emotions in and marched up to the stage. Half of me thought that this would be the last time I would see my family. The other half of me thought I was going to win those Games."

"It kinda was the last time you got to see your family." I softly frowned, remembering him telling me about the murder of his mother, younger brother, and girlfriend.

One of his hands cupped my face, fighting over what to say. "Do you really want to know this, Willow?"

"I have to. I don't have a choice." I replied.

"No one is going to make you learn about my Hunger Games. You don't have to know about this." He said.

"I have to learn about Mom and Dad's," I argued. "I just...I hoped that maybe learning about yours would be enough. Then they wouldn't have to explain everything they've been through." I softly continued, looking down at my lap.

He grabbed my chin, making my eyes meet his gray ones. In this light, they almost seemed haunting. "You'll hear about it one way or another," he began. "If I was you, I'd want to hear about it from my parents, the people who actually experienced it."

I swallowed hard, nodding my head. Everything he was saying made sense. "Okay," I quietly nodded. "But, will you still tell me about yours? I don't want to upset you, I just have to know. I want to understand."

So he continued his story of his Games. I heard about Maysilee and his act with the force field. At first, I thought maybe he was lying to me about his experience. Why would you dress tributes up before sending them to fight to the death? But his voice and eyes told me everything he was speaking was true.

"So because you used the force field President Snow killed your loved ones?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Yes."

"But why? What was so wrong with using that to your advantage?"

He let out a long sigh. "It's hard for you to understand. You've grown up in a world I never thought possible. Here, you're allowed to think what you what, be what you want, do what you want. In my world, I had done something unthinkable. The force field wasn't meant to be used as a weapon, so when I figured out how it worked, I made the Capitol look stupid. Because of this, President Snow killed everyone I loved, making me an example for tributes like your parents and Johanna."

"So they wouldn't make the Capitol look stupid as well. I think I kinda understand now." I frowned.

Haymitch softly smiled, ruffling my hair. I giggled, scrunching my shoulders. "I hope I wouldn't give any nightmares tonight." He chuckled.

"You won't." I smiled. We sat in a comfortable silence, watching the embers die down. I had no idea how late it was, but I didn't care. I was enjoying my company with Haymitch.

"Well, we should probably get you home. Your daddy is probably wondering if you got lost." He teased, setting me on my feet so that he could stand up. He grabbed my hand, leading me safely back to my house.

Outside, snow covered the ground. As we walked, we left tracks from our shoes. The wind had picked up, making small snow tornadoes. I hoped Mom and Dad had started our fireplace so that it would be nice and toasty.

As we reached the front doorstep, I looked up at him. "Thank you, Uncle Haymitch."

"Anytime, sweet pea." He answered, opening the door. Mom was just putting on her coat, a smile growing on her face.

"I was just coming over to steal my daughter back." She teased, taking off her coat.

"Trust me, I'm giving this one back. She reminds me too much of you. And you know how you and I feel about each other." He playfully replied back, slightly shoving me inside the house.

Mom chuckled, rolling her eyes as she ran her hand over the top of my head. "Well, Willow. Say goodnight to Haymitch."

"Goodnight, Uncle Haymitch." I declared as he bent down, leaning his cheek to me.

"Goodnight, spitfire," He replied as I kissed his cheek. "Goodnight to you, too, Katniss."

Mom smiled, slowly closing the door. "Night, Haymitch." She turned around, facing me. "So, you spent a long time at his place. Why?"

"No reason. I just wanted to talk about a few things with him." I shrugged, trying to play it off. I didn't want to upset her by having her think she wasn't enough for me.

"Okay, sure." Mom said, leading me towards the living room.

Dad was seated in his chair beside the fire, reading the latest newspaper. "Wow, you're home pretty late." Dad said, peeking his blue eyes over his paper.

"Sorry."

"You better be. Next, you're grounded...for life." He teased, a smile wide on his face. He stood up from his chair and tightly hugged me, kissing my head. "I missed you too much! Don't ever leave me again!" He faked cried.

"Dad." I whined.

"Willow." He mocked, picking me up. I laughed, kicking my legs.

"Peeta, put her down. Rye is sleeping upstairs." Mom scolded, glaring at him.

"Oh, he's fine, Katniss. That kid could sleep through a hail storm." Dad replied, setting me on my feet. Mom rolled her eyes, a smile on her face.

"Willow, go get ready for bed." She chuckled, shaking her head at Dad. As I walked upstairs, I heard her whining as Dad laughed.

I was pleased with myself. My parents were happy. Bringing up their past with them would only ruin the atmosphere in our family. By asking Haymitch, I still got answers and didn't ruin our family life. Maybe I wouldn't ask them about their experiences ever. Haymitch was perfect for the job.

 **Wow. Two months in a row so far. LETS HOPE I CAN KEEP IT UP!**


	17. Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

It had been weeks since I brought Haymitch to school and the outbreak that happened afterwards. We weren't assigned any more tasking projects about our families though we still learned about our history. It was nothing too personal, mostly what each district used to specialize in and when each one began to rebel.

Currently, the snow had begun to pick up, large flakes floating to the already white covered ground. Winter had finally happened and the ground had been solid for weeks. The air was nippy, causing a pain to your hands if they were bare for too long.

This was my favorite time of weather.

If it snowed too heavily, school could be cancelled for the day or days if I was lucky. During this chilly season, we spend most of our dark evenings gathered around the fireplace in the living room. Blankets would cover our bodies as we talked and laughed as a family. Of course, this also includes Haymitch, who would tell us stories about his rebellious days in school. Those ones always bring a smile to my face.

Since it's usually freezing outside, Dad makes us delicious winter meals that bring warmth not only to your body, but to your soul. His stew is to die for, especially with the cheese buns. He also makes millions of sweet treats, meaning Mom scolds Rye and me often about eating too many. Even after she yells at us, Dad will sneak us a treat under the table.

I pressed my hands against the cool glass, trying to get a look outside. Today made a smile grow on my face as I watched the snow flutter in the sky. I knew exactly how I would spend my day.

"Whatcha up to, Willow?" Rye asked, pressing his nose to the window. He jumped, surprised by the cold, but still stood beside me.

"I'm watching the snow. I think school will get called off." I said, looking over at him.

"Darn it. Gale was going to visit our classroom today." He sighed, a slight frown on his face as he looked out the window.

I shrugged my shoulder. "I'm sure he'll come tomorrow instead. And besides, it's not like you'll never see him. He's been here in Twelve since fall."

"I guess you're right." Rye replied.

"Hey, kiddos!" Dad called out, coming in from the snowy outside. Rye and I ran to the door, watching him stomp the sticky snow off of his winter boots. Fresh snow clung to his blonde hair and winter jacket.

"Hey, what?" Rye and I asked, smiles wide on our faces.

"You two are the luckiest kids ever," he began, hanging his coat on a hook. "School's been called off. You get the day to do whatever you want."

Rye and I cheered, jumping around the room in excitement. No school was a blessing. It meant the freedom to do anything you wanted and nobody could stop you. It was a nice break from the long, dreadful days trapped inside the schoolhouse.

Mom came from the bedroom, squinting her eyes to see outside. A smile slowly grew on her face. "No school, huh?" She asked.

"Nope. No school!" Rye exclaimed, tossing his arms out wide.

"Peeta, does the snow show any signs of letting up soon?" Mom asked.

Dad shrugged. "I would say around noon it should die down. Why?"

Mom let out a sigh, her smile never leaving. "Oh, no reason," she began, circling Rye and me. Suddenly, she reached out, pulling us close to her. "I just thought we could go ice skating."

"Can we really?" I asked, excitement building up inside of me. Forget my original plans. I was just going to have Dad show me a few painting techniques. Ice skating? That was definitely a better way to spend my day off.

"If the snow stops around noon." Mom nodded.

"Oh, geez. Have this burden rest on my shoulders." Dad teased, acting annoyed.

"Can we take a sled?" Rye asked, tilting his head at Mom and Dad. Rye has never been fond of ice skating. Maybe the skates pinched his toes too much or he hated falling down. Either way, ice skating wasn't his ideal choice. But sledding? That was right up his alley.

"Why not? It sounds like a great plan." Dad said, making Rye cheer.

"What are we going to do until then?" I asked. As excited as I was to go skating, I still wanted to go outside while the snow was falling. I loved everything about winter. The cold winds, the wet snow, and even the frozen ice patches.

"We could go make a snowman. The snow is perfect." Dad offered. Rye and I quickly agreed, rushing over to pull on our snow gear.

I pulled my winter pants up to my chest and slipped on my new winter boots. Effie had sent them a few weeks ago so the shoes were the right size. The fur in them were already making my feet sweat, but I couldn't care. I zipped up my jacket and popped on my mittens while Dad shoved a hat onto my head then Rye's.

"Are you coming with us?" Rye asked as Mom zipped up his jacket for him. His hands were already covered in his blue mittens, making it impossible for him to even think of putting on any of his gear by himself.

"Yes, I love making snowmen." Mom smiled, holding a boot for him. Dad kept him steady as he picked up one foot for Mom to slip on the boot.

"Hooray! We can make a whole family of snowmen!" Rye grinned.

So, we trekked out into the snowy weather. Immediately, snow clung to my eyelashes and hair. My feet crunched in the snow as I followed behind Dad and Rye. "What body part can I make?" Rye asked as we stopped in the clear spot between Haymitch's house and ours.

"I think you can make the head, Willow and Mom can make the middle, and I'll make the bottom." Dad said, a smile on his face.

"Okay!" Rye nodded, dropping to his knees.

We laughed and followed his lead. Mom and I knelt beside each other, rolling up a ball of snow. We started to push the small ball on the ground, gathering up the sticky snow quickly. I missed the snowball and fell, my face landing in a fresh pile of snow.

"Willow? Are you okay?" Mom laughed, watching me pick myself up. I wiped the freezing snow off of my face and smiled.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I replied, joining her again.

Eventually, we had a little family of snowmen. There were two big ones, which were supposed to be Dad and Mom. A slightly smaller one, which was supposed to be me. And an even smaller one which was Rye. We all stood line, admiring our latest work.

"We forget Haymitch." Mom pointed out, a frown slightly on her face.

So, we quickly threw together a fifth snowmen, propping him up beside our family. "There we go." Dad grinned, patting the snowman.

"Haymitch." Rye smiled, hugging the snowman.

"Let's go show him our newest creation. I think he'll enjoy it." Dad said, walking towards Haymitch's house. The rest of us waddled behind Dad, trying to keep up with him. It was amazing how fast he was with his prosthetic leg.

Dad knocked on the door, pausing with a smile on his face. Beside me, Rye giggled into his mittens, trying to hide his excitement.

Haymitch opened the door, squinting his gray eyes. "Well, hello, Mellark Family. What brings you to my door this lovely winter morning?"

"We want you to see our snowfamily!" Rye cheered, making us chuckle.

"Shouldn't you be in school, squirt?" Haymitch asked, tipping his bottle at Rye. Rye shook his head, a smile wide on his face.

"School's been cancelled for the day." I said.

"Well, I'm sure you're happier than a pig in a mud puddle." Haymitch teased, looking at me.

"Nope. They're so disappointed. We had to almost drag them over here." Dad replied, giving us a fake frown.

"No, we're not!" Rye immediately denied, making us laugh.

"So, a snow family, huh?" Haymitch asked after a pause. "Just let me get on my boots and a coat."

Once Haymitch had his gear on, we lead him to our little snow family. He smiled, pointing at his replica. "Who's that handsome snowman?"

"It's you, silly." Rye replied.

"We're going ice skating later. Do you want to come with us?" I asked. Rye begged beside me as we looked up at Haymitch.

"Sorry, I don't think I can make it down to the lake and back. Bad back." Haymitch replied, stretching out his back. Rye awed, his shoulders slouching.

"Rye." Mom softly scolded.

"Don't worry, squirt. I'll join you next time." Haymitch promised. We all waved goodbye to Haymitch as he walked back inside his toasty house. Once he had left, we grabbed our skating gear and Rye hopped into a sled, holding them on his lap.

Dad pulled the sled behind him as Mom and I led the way. The lake has always been a favorite place for me. There's a little house beside it that has a small broom and a fire poker inside. Mom and Dad would let me play house when I younger. This is also the place Mom taught Rye and me how to swim.

Once we finally arrived, I quickly plopped onto a log and tightly laced up my ice skates. Dad and Rye scooped up piles of snow, clearing the hard ice for me to skate on. I enjoyed ice skating so much. It made me feel like I could fly.

Once a large area had been cleared, I was allowed to step onto the lake. At first, I started to slip, not used to the slick land. I held out my arms, balancing myself. Once I was stable, I slowly stood up and slowly skated around.

I stated to gain speed, making large circle around and around the lake. Soon, I was no longer a girl with rebel leaders as parents. I was a girl whose home was on the ice. I belonged on the ice. The cold wind beat against my cheeks and shivers ran up and down my body, but I was happy. I was happier than I had been in a long time.

Until I heard the cracks.

I stopped, seeing the lines growing underneath me. I looked out to Mom and Dad, who were watching me from a log on the shore. "What's wrong?" Mom asked, clearly seeing the fear in my face.

Before I could even answer, I fell into the freezing water below. I flailed underneath, trying to reach the surface. The water chilled my bones, making it difficult to move. I kicked my legs, feeling myself rising.

I popped my head up, gasping for air. Rye's wails hit my ears as I saw Dad scrambling to reach me as I sank down again. It was so hard to move. My now soaking snow gear added extra weight to my body, making it nearly impossible to swim up.

My lungs demanded for air. My arms and legs demanded for a break. But I couldn't give up, not yet. I reached the surface for a second time, the freezing air rushing into my lungs, making me cough. Dad was closer now, but I knew he wouldn't reach me by the time I sank again. I heard his prosthetic leg scraping against the ice as he scrambled to save me.

As my head was dunked again, my body began to shut down. My chest demanded for more air, but arms and legs were so tired and so very cold. I hugged my body for a few seconds, but the pain in chest was too strong to ignore. Using the last of my energy, I reached the surface for the third time.

After the third surfacing, it's rare to see another. Rye's howls echoed off of the lake and Mom shouted out to Dad. Dad was closer now. I was able to see his blue eyes for the last time as I went underwater again.

This time, my body longed for warmth. I was so cold. So very cold. I hugged my body tightly as the freezing water entered my lungs, causing my insides to feel cold as well. I began to feel sleepy. Maybe this would be the end for me.

Suddenly, water rushed past my ears and a bright light blinded my eyes. "Willow!" Dad shouted, holding me up. I peeked open my eyes, seeing his fearful blue ones. He held me out at arm's length above my death trap.

He laughed, hugging me against his body as he rushed me back to shore. I began to shake, my wet body now exposed to the elements of winter. I was freezing, but alive. Mom set Rye down to cry on the snow as she rushed towards me.

"Oh, my Willow. You're alive!" Mom grinned, tears cutting tracks down her face. I weakly smiled as she held her face against mine. Her wooly mittens gently rubbed my icy skin. "You're okay, now. You're okay." She cooed.

"Katniss, I have to set her down." Dad said, setting me in the sled. I trembled from the shock of nearly dying and from the bitterly cold that now threatened to kill me. I coughed up water, but at least I could breathe.

Dad yanked off my coat and snow pants. Mom began to shout at him, as he pushed her back. "Katniss, I know what I'm doing!" He yelled, quickly pulling off his own gear. He pulled his dry snow pants over my body and zipped me up in his furry winter coat. That left him in just his pants and a long sleeve shirt. Not exactly protective in this weather.

He pulled off my hat and replaced it with his own. He took my wet mittens and covered my stiff hands with his warm ones that he left on shore when he pulled me out. He sat down, taking off his boots and socks. He peeled the socks starting to freeze to me off and stuffed them into his pocket then pulled his warm ones over my feet then put back on my boots that were dry on land. He tossed my soaking ice skates towards Mom.

"We need to get her back to the house before she freezes to death." Mom said, her breathing deep, but calmer than seconds ago. Rye's cries morphed into sniffles. He peeked out from behind Mom's legs, his face beet red.

"I know. Make sure we have everything. I'll start bringing her back." Dad said, gripping the rope tied to the sled. He quickly dragged me back, my body still shaking.

Rye's voice grew quieter as we went deeper into the woods. The snow was beginning to pick up again and I felt awful for Dad. He no longer had a winter coat to protect him from the elements for this harsh winter day.

"Dad, do you want your coat back? I'm-"

"No, Willow. You're soaking wet. You need my coat to keep from freezing to death." He immediately denied, his voice harsh. There was no way I was going to change his mind.

So I stayed quiet, the only noise exiting from me was my chattering teeth.

The wind began to whip against my face, making me colder than I thought imaginable. We were only halfway home and I could hardly move my toes anymore. I knew that was a sign of hypothermia. My eyes began to feel heavy and I felt exhausted. Maybe a nap wouldn't be so bad.

"Willow, how are you doing?" Dad asked, tilting his head to look back at me. My eyes snapped open and I tried to shake away any sleepiness.

"What?" I asked, my speech sounding like Haymitch's when he's had too much to drink.

"I asked how you're doing." Dad repeated, now stopping.

"I'm fine." I mumbled. He rushed back towards me, studying my face. I frowned, attempting to push him away, but my arms could hardly move. He pulled his sleeve over his hand and wiped some fallen snow from my face.

"Shit." He quietly cursed. He snatched the rope again and began to run. My head grew heavy as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Sleep would help. Then I'd be home before I knew it.

 _xxx_

I awoke to the sound of the door slamming shut. "Is Willow gonna die?" Rye asked.

"No, Rye. She's just very sick. You need to be quiet." Mom said.

I opened my eyes, seeing the fire brightly burning across the room. On my forehead was a hot towel and my body was wrapped in so many layers I was surprised I wasn't sweating to death.

I began to sit up as Dad rushed towards me. "You sure gave everyone a scare." Dad chuckled, kneeling beside me.

"I did?" I asked, slightly confused.

"Yeah, but don't worry. You're okay." Dad said, helping me sit up. He gave me a cup of tea, his hands smelling of cinnamon. Across the room was Haymitch, who was knocking his head back with a bottle of alcohol.

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked, now concerned. The last thing I remembered was being in the sled, freezing to death.

"Just a few hours," he explained. "Here, you should eat something." Dad said, handing me a frosted cinnamon roll. He kissed my forehead then rushed back into the kitchen.

I sat still, confusion still running through my head. "Your daddy put you into some warm clothes as I started the fire. Don't worry, Willow. You're perfectly fine. You'll be back to normal in a few hours." Haymitch said.

 _xxx_

I was offered to sleep on the couch, but I was feeling a millions times better than earlier in the day. Besides, my bed was so comfortable and cozy. I wanted to pull my thick comforters over my body and drift into a peaceful sleep.

Just before I closed my eyes, Mom and Dad entered my room. "I have a new song for you." Mom said, kneeling with Dad beside my bed.

Dad ran his fingers over my hair as I softly smiled. "What is it?" I asked.

Mom smiled, opening her mouth to sing.

 _"Bright morning stars are rising_

 _Bright morning stars are rising_

 _Bright morning stars are rising_

 _Day is a'breaking_

 _In my soul"_

 _"Oh where are our dear fathers?_

 _Oh where are our dear fathers?_

 _They are down in the valley a'praying_

 _Day is a'breaking_

 _In my soul"_

 _"Oh where are our dear mothers?_

 _Oh where are our dear mothers?_

 _They are gone to heaven a'shouting_

 _Day is a'breaking_

 _In my soul"_

 _"Bright morning stars are rising_

 _Bright morning stars are rising_

 _Bright morning stars are rising_

 _Day is a'breaking_

 _In my soul"_

The peaceful song lulled me to sleep. The bright stars above our house gave me comfort, feeling like they were watching over me as I drifted into a calm, safe place. As the last verse echoed in my head, it dawned on me that the bright morning stars were angels in the sky. Maybe those angels were all of our loved last in the rebellion.

 **Thank you guys so much for reading through this long chapter! I hope you enjoyed! If you want to hear a version of this song, listen to The Wailin' Jennys. They do a wonderful job!**

 **Okay, so I want your guys opinion. I'm thinking about making a book where Peeta was saved from the rebels instead of Katniss. Would this be something you'd be interested in reading and if so when would you like me to publish it? I've been working on one chapter, but I don't wanna put too much effort into it if no one wants to read it.**

 **Thanks again! And I'll see you guys soon!**

 **Edit: I decided to publish the book mentioned above. It's called I'm Not Your Mockingjay. Please go check out and tell me what you think! Thanks for all of the support!**


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